Year 3: Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban
by Lady Dawson
Summary: Complete. Even as Sirius Black escapes from the wizarding world, Gwyn enters her third-year at Hogwarts, where she discovers secrets of her mother's past and is haunted by dreams surrounding her mother's death.
1. Birthday Tidings

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter One: Birthday Tidings

The sun was just setting on the small town as a young teenage girl walked through the streets, the last rays catching her long blonde hair and turning it into gold. Her blue eyes were keeping a careful eye out as she walked, her hands in her pockets, before slowing to a stop outside of a great Victorian manor, a hint of sadness crossing her face as she looked up at it.

Gwyn Swann sighed as she stared up at the manor that had been her home for ten years before she'd left it, by her own choice. Her father William had banned her from ever returning home because of the fact that she choose the legacy that her mother had left behind, her heritage. She chose to leave her father's house and go to the place that her own mother had learned her skills: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Two years had passed since that fateful day when she had found out the truth surrounding her mother's death. The fact that her mother had been a witch had come as a shock, but the fact that her mother had been murdered by the follower of an evil wizard named Voldemort had been almost unbelievable. Gwyn still felt a mixture of pride and sadness about her mother's death. Proud that her mother had risked her life to save the people in the street that day and sad because she would never know the woman who gave her life for them and Aurora Swann would never see the woman that she was growing up to be. Even though she had never found out the name of her mother's killer, Gwyn knew that he had been arrested and sent to the wizard prison Azkaban, said to be a desolate place, protected by dementors. Among the darkest of creatures known to wizards, dementors literally sucked the happiness out of people . . . and sometimes, their souls.

Gwyn shivered slightly; just thinking about the damage that the dementors could do gave her the chills. She never wanted to come across them, but the way that her life was, she was bound to meet one sooner rather than later.

In the two years since she had found out about being a witch, Gwyn had fought alongside her friends to protect both their school from being destroyed from within and to prevent Voldemort from rising again.

Her friends were probably what Gwyn missed most about school, despite Charms class and going to watch the Quidditch matches. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were some of the best friends than anybody could ask for. Gwyn didn't know how she had gotten so lucky as to find friends like them, but she was glad she did. They were more like her family than her father had been in all the years she had lived with him.

With a sigh, Gwyn glanced up at the manor one last time before pulling her jacket tighter around her as she headed down the street, about to head in the direction of her own house when someone yelled something behind her.

"Gwyn!"

Turning back around, she saw a familiar boy her own age running towards her, trying to catch up with her. He was taller than her with brown hair that hung constantly in his face and grey eyes, with a friendly demeanour. "Hi, Evan," she said, smiling faintly towards her future stepbrother.

Ever since her departure two years earlier, William had finally detached himself from the life that he had been living and moved away from both Gwyn and her mother permanently by seeing a woman and eventually moving in with her. Evan Taylor was that woman's son, though he didn't particularly like William or the fact that his parents' marriage had fallen apart because she had gotten involved with him.

"It's good to see you," Evan said as he caught up with her. She nodded, not saying anything. "How have you been?"

"Fighting a giant snake that was attacking the school," Gwyn answered, with a hint of a smile. "You?"

"Come on, I'm serious," Evan said, laughing as if she were joking. Gwyn couldn't help grinning, even though she was telling the truth about the previous school year, which had been attacked by a basilisk.

"So am I," Gwyn said, shrugging. "It wasn't too bad." She paused, glancing towards the manor. "So . . . uh . . . how are things with Dad and your mum?" she asked.

Evan shrugged, his expression stony. "Not too bad, I guess, considering they're getting married next month," he replied. Gwyn glanced up in surprise at the particular piece of news.

"They're getting married?" she repeated and he nodded, looking at her in surprise at her expression.

"You didn't know," he observed. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Gwyn, I thought that you knew. It's . . . kind of big news around here." He paused, looking awkward.

"Madeline and I don't exactly get the headline news," Gwyn said quietly.

After she'd left her father's house, she moved in with her housekeeper and her mother's old friend Madeline Harris, who now worked at the Ministry of Magic and held guardianship over her. But neither Madeline nor Gwyn were exactly well-respected within the Muggle community that they lived in, due to Gwyn's disownment and Madeline's lack of involvement.

Evan was quiet for a long moment before he looked up at her. "Why don't you just come to the wedding?" he asked suddenly. "I mean, it's your dad, after all, and I really think that you should be there."

"Dad wouldn't want me there," Gwyn replied, shaking her head. "He's made it perfectly clear that we've each made our choices." She folded her arms across her chest, glancing up at the manor. "I'm sorry, but that place is the home of a girl who doesn't exist anymore. She left two years ago and she isn't coming back."

"Are you ever going to tell me why your dad doesn't want you around anymore?" Evan said after a long moment. Gwyn smiled and shook her head. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"Families rarely do," Gwyn pointed out. "I've got to go. I'm expecting a call from my friend Hermione. She's in France right now and I don't want to waste her parents' money with the long distance calls if I'm not there."

"Wait!" Evan grabbed her arm as she turned to go and he pressed a small, rectangular package into her reluctant hands. "I got this for you. Mrs. Harris said that today was your birthday. It didn't seem right for you not to have any presents."

Gwyn stared down at the package before relenting, slowly unwrapping the paper to find a book within.

"_The Mists of Avalon,_" she said softly, stroking the cover affectionately before looking up at Evan in disbelief. "How did you—"

"I might've gone through some of your stuff in your old room," he admitted, looking embarrassed. "There were some King Arthur books in there, so I thought that you might be interested in this." He raised his head to look at her. "Do you like it?"

Gwyn smiled and stood on tiptoes to hug him properly. "Thank you," she said sincerely. Evan smiled and nodded as she pulled away. "I've got to go. Hermione—"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he agreed, heading back towards the manor just as a woman who looked as though she could be his mother appeared on the doorstep, looking at Gwyn suspiciously.

"Evan," Gwyn said and he looked back at her. She smiled at him. "Thank you," she said again, letting him know with a look that it was for more than just the book.

"You're welcome," he said, grinning at her before he headed towards the manor, climbing up the steps and vanishing into the house. Gwyn watched him go before looking down at the book, a small smile on her face as she took one last look to where her stepbrother had been before heading home.

The phone was already ringing by the time that she had opened the door and she hurried to grab the receiver before the caller hung up. "Hello?" she said breathlessly.

"Gwyn, hi!" Hermione squealed from the other end. "Oh, I was starting to think that you'd forgotten! The phone rang forever."

"Sorry, I got held up. But how are you? How's France?"

The two girls talked for about an hour and would've talked longer had Mr. Granger not come into the room on Hermione's end and started lecturing about the phone minutes when they were perfectly able to write letters to each other—and considering wizards had much faster mail service, there was no point in talking to each other for any longer. So they had to reluctantly hang up just as a tap came from the window and Gwyn looked over to see a Hogwarts owl sitting on the sill.

Jumping to her feet, Gwyn hurried to let the owl in, taking the letter that it was carrying, noting the Hogwarts crest. Immediately, she knew what this had to be; her new booklist for the coming year. But it was a lot thicker than usual, she noted as the owl took the sky, leaving the blonde witch standing in the kitchen as she opened it.

As usual, the letter was written in green ink as she unfolded it, reading the letter that the school had sent.

_Dear Miss Swann, _

_Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Expression will leave from King's Cross Station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock. _

_Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign. _

_A list of books for next year is enclosed. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professor M. McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Gwyn couldn't help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of going to Hogsmeade, the wizarding village that lay outside Hogwarts. It was an entirely wizarding village, but like most of her fellow classmates, Gwyn had never set foot there. Setting the permission slip aside to ask Madeline about it later, Gwyn turned to the booklist for the upcoming year.

**THIRD-YEAR STUDENTS ARE REQUIRED:**

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three_ by Miranda Goshawk

_Intermediate Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

_The Monster Book of Monsters_ by Newt Scamander

_Numerology and Grammatica_ by Paige Twinkle

Gwyn grinned when she saw the last two books; third years, in addition to their regular classes, chose two other classes to attend. After much consideration, Gwyn had decided to go with Arthimancy and Care of the Magical Creatures.

The door slammed shut, startling Gwyn, as Madeline came into the kitchen, looking as though she were exhausted. "Oh, goodness, I haven't seen the Ministry in such an uproar since the days of You-Know-Who!" she exclaimed, fanning herself. Gwyn hurried to start a pot of tea.

"What happened?" she inquired as she prepared it just the way that Madeline preferred it, setting it down before her guardian. Madeline took a huge gulp of tea before she started explaining.

"It's a complete racket since last night," she told Gwyn as she prepared herself a cup of tea. "There was an escape from Azkaban." Gwyn accidentally spilled some hot water on her hand and winced slightly, wiping her hand. It was the same hand that had been burnt a year earlier when it had gotten in the way of her fire spell and still bore the scars of it.

"Azkaban? But I thought. . . . Madeline, I thought nobody could escape from Azkaban. You told me nobody had ever escaped from there!"

Madeline raised her head to look at the blonde witch. "And no one ever has," she replied quietly. "Until now."

--

Gwyn was sitting up in her room later that same night, reading _The Mists of Avalon_ when Madeline walked in, an amused smile on her face.

"Young lady, when are you going to learn that this is now way to spend your birthday?" she said, shaking her head in amusement. She walked over, peering at the book that she had in her hands. "Where did you get that?"

"From Evan," Gwyn admitted, sitting up straight. "You know, Dad's girlfriend's son. They're getting married, you know. It's weird, I'm about to have a stepmother and I don't even know her name. Pretty lady, though."

"Vanessa," Madeline replied quietly. Gwyn glanced up at her, startled. "Her name is Vanessa Taylor. Soon to be Swann," she added with a smile at her. "But it's good that you're making friends with Evan. He seems like a nice, young man. But speaking of birthdays . . ." She headed back to the door and retrieved a long narrow package, smiling secretively.

"Madeline, I told you, you didn't have to get me anything," Gwyn insisted, exasperated. She had told her guardian that it wasn't necessary for her to get her any presents, because she did enough just taking her in. Without Madeline, she would be living in the streets during summer holidays.

"And I told you that you deserve to have presents on your birthdays," Madeline countered, still smiling. "Now, be quiet and open it." Gwyn smiled as she accepted the present, shaking her head at her guardian.

Slowly, she pulled back the paper and gasped in surprise as a brand new broomstick rolled out onto her bed, gleaming up at the blonde witch happily. "Oh, my—" she breathed, hardly able to believe her eyes when she saw it. "A broomstick."

"Maybe you can get in some practice," Madeline said with a wink. "You could turn out to be as good as your mother." Gwyn smiled; her mother had been a Quidditch player when she was at school.

"It's a Comet Two Eighty," Gwyn said, thrilled as she saw the make at the end. She looked up at her guardian. "Madeline . . . thank you." Gwyn ran her fingers up and down the broom, revelling in the feeling of it. She hadn't ridden a broom since her first year and those horrid brooms that the school provided left much to be desired.

"You're welcome," Madeline said with a smile, patting her arm. She glanced up as a tap on the window made them both look up. "Oh . . . _The Evening Prophet_. I'll bet you anything the news has gotten there by now," she sighed as she retrieved the paper, paying the owl.

Sure enough, the escapee from Azkaban was plastered all over the front page, with a large headline in bold letters: **BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN**

"This will cause overtime for days," Madeline said with a sigh, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "It's getting late and I'm going to have to head off early tomorrow, so I'm going to head to bed." Gwyn nodded, looking sympathetically at her guardian. "Good night and happy birthday, Gwyn." She paused at the door. "By the way, I signed your permission form. It's on the kitchen table."

Gwyn grinned at her. "Thanks, Madeline," she said as her guardian left the room, looking exhausted. Looking at the paper, Gwyn stared down into the gaunt face of the mass murderer Sirius Black.


	2. Her Father's Wedding

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Two: Her Father's Wedding

The day was bright and beautiful as Gwyn slowly walked through the quiet streets of her town, shoving her hands into her pockets as she headed towards the one place that she probably shouldn't be, but couldn't deny any longer that she needed to be. It didn't take very long for her to get there, but once she arrived, all she could do was stare towards the ceremony that was taking place.

Gwyn could see her father William from where he stood next to his best friend Thomas Acker, his business partner, and the priest. Two years had passed since she had laid eyes on him, but he still looked the same as the last time Gwyn had seen him. His brown hair was combed so that every strand was in place and his eyes, the same blue colour as his daughter's, looked happy for once. Gwyn could count the number of times that she had seen her father happy when she had lived with him on one hand.

Was it so wrong that her father should find some happiness? After all, he had lost the wife he loved. It wasn't so terrible that he could find some happiness for himself. She had done that; she had gone to the school her mother had gone to and found better friends than she could have ever imagined and adventure beyond her imagination. Gwyn smiled; no, it wasn't wrong that he should do that. But it was going to be a long time before either father or daughter would be able to accept each other in their lives again.

For the moment, at least, the only thing she could do was stay on the outside, looking in. And while it was strange to be an outsider at her own father's wedding, if she could go back to that fateful day two years ago, knowing what she knew now, she would be right here, standing here and looking at her father, so happy as the music began to play.

Vanessa Taylor was a vision in white as she descended the steps leading from the house and everyone stood up as the bride was led by her son down the aisle. She looked beautiful in the wedding gown, Gwyn had to admit. Her light brown hair was hidden by her veil, curled up in a bun at the back.

As she and Evan reached William, Evan transferred his mother to her father before moving towards his seat. For a moment, he caught sight of Gwyn standing there and his mouth twisted into a crooked smile before he nodded once to her in greeting before taking his seat.

Neither William nor Vanessa noticed this exchange between the two soon-to-be siblings as they gazed at each other, both of them looking as though this were a dream come true. Gwyn stayed where she was as she watched the priest lead the way through the vows, too far away to hear the words, but she could see plain as day how jovial her father was feeling.

Gwyn watched quietly as William Swann and Vanessa Taylor were joined in holy matrimony, a sad smile crossing her face as she watched them. Only when the wedding dispersed did she move away from her hiding place and head back towards her house, a heaviness wearing down upon her.

Her own father had gotten married today, she thought miserably, when he was still, technically, married to her mother. So why didn't this particular piece of information bother her more?

Maybe because she was starting to grow up. Maybe because she knew that, after facing near-death experiences two years in a row, life was short and chances needed to be taken. If Vanessa made her father happy, then she was glad for them. She just wished that he could find it in his heart to let his daughter back into his world.

But, just as he had written her in a letter once, they had both made their choices. And now she could only go forward with the choice she had made. Gwyn sighed as she reached the front door, about to unlock it when someone approached her from behind.

"Gwyn!" Turning around, she found Evan standing behind her, still in his tux, the bowtie twisted and unravelled and it was evident that he had run after her, because his hair was slightly messy. "Come to the reception," he pleaded.

"Dad doesn't want me there."

"So what?" Evan glared at her, folding her arms across his chest. "He's your father, Gwyn. And even though I don't know what happened between you two, I really think that means something." Gwyn sighed, about to argue with him when he interjected. "Just come to the reception. And if he says anything, then I promise, I will never say another thing about you and your dad's relationship again."

Gwyn smiled faintly, still hesitating. "I don't know . . ." she said after a minute. "Does your mum even know about me? I don't exactly want to drop the fact Dad's got a daughter on her on her wedding day."

Evan grinned triumphantly, seeing that he had her now. "She knows. I confronted William after I found out about you last year, so he had no choice but to tell Mum."

"Was he angry?" Gwyn inquired. Evan shrugged, still waiting for her answer on the reception. She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she glanced towards the door. "I'm free to go whenever I want?" she questioned and he nodded, still grinning. She sighed. "All right, I'll go. Let me just go change first."

"Sure. Mind if I come in? I've never seen your house before," Evan said as she unlocked the door. After taking a quick glance inside to see if Madeline left any wizard stuff lying around, Gwyn let him inside.

Making sure that there was no way that he could find anything related to her magical world, Gwyn headed upstairs to her bedroom to change into a nice shirt and skirt that Madeline had bought for her but she'd never worn. There was nowhere that she had needed to look nice for until now.

Brushing out her blonde hair carefully, Gwyn braided it carefully and sighed, wondering if she was really going to do this when she heard a knock on the door and jumped about a mile; she had asked Evan to stay downstairs while she changed.

"Hey, Gwyn?" Evan sounded bewildered, she realised. "There's an owl downstairs that keeps hitting the glass window and I think it wants in, from the way that it keeps looking at me."

An owl!

Gwyn felt the blood drain from her face as she opened the door to reveal a confused Evan. "Where?" she asked frantically. Evan opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it as he led her downstairs, to the kitchen, where, sure enough, there was a snowy owl sitting outside the window with a letter.

"Hedwig!" Gwyn exclaimed, shaking her head as she crossed the room, opening up the window. Harry's beloved owl came swooping into the kitchen, dropping a letter undoubtedly from him onto the table before landing on the table, looking slightly affronted.

Forgetting momentarily about her stepbrother, Gwyn snatched the letter off of the table, petting Hedwig absently as she opened up the letter from her best friend.

_Dear Gwyn,_

_Sorry about dropping this off on you, but could you please watch after Hedwig for the next week? My uncle's sister is coming to stay with us for this week and he's only going to sign my permission slip for Hogsmeade if I be nice and pretend I'm "normal." I really would appreciate it. _

_Can't wait to see you and Ron and Hermione. Thanks for the present, by the way, it was awesome! _

_Harry_

Gwyn grinned; she had sent him a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_, the one book in the library that he had checked out repeatedly in the school library, as well as a pair of binoculars that played the Puddlemere United's entire season. Madeline had said that the binoculars were called Omnioculars when Gwyn had bought them in Quality Quidditch supplies.

Hedwig hooted as Gwyn pet her. "Well, Hedwig, looks like you're stuck with me this week," she said with a grin at her. "Let's get you some food."

Just as she moved towards the cabinet to get the owl some food, Evan said loudly, "Gwyn!" She jumped before turning to look at her stepbrother. "_What_ is going on here?"

_Uh-oh_, Gwyn thought worriedly as she looked at Evan anxiously, his expression bewildered and confused. It was forbidden by wizarding law for Muggles to find out about the magical world. The only ones allowed to know—at great discursion—were the ones who had witches or wizards in the family, like Hermione's parents.

But on the other hand, Evan was family now, so the wizarding law probably applied to him now. Besides, there was no other way out now than the truth, if he even believed her.

After a long, tense moment, Gwyn looked at Evan quietly. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes," Evan replied tensely, sounding annoyed. "There's an owl at the window, you let it in, not really surprised by it, and just grab a letter off of it, acting like it's completely normal for you? What's not strange about that?"

"Well . . . it's not really . . . not for me, anyway," Gwyn said weakly. Evan cocked an eyebrow. "Okay, look." She sat down, signalling her stepbrother to do the same. Once he had taken a seat, she continued. "What I am about to tell you is going to sound completely bizarre and crazy, but I promise, it's the truth. And you cannot tell another living soul. You have to promise me or I can't tell you, Evan."

With a frown at her, Evan asked slowly, "Does this have anything to do with why your dad disowned you?"

Gwyn nodded. "Yeah, it does. A lot, actually. Do you promise?" she asked him.

Evan paused, looking sceptical, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Okay," he agreed. "I promise."

Taking a deep breath, Gwyn chose her words very carefully before she spoke them, looking her stepbrother straight in the eye. He was starting to look nervous as he fidgeted under her gaze. "Evan," she said softly, her voice soft and calm, "I'm a witch."

--

To his credit, Evan took the news surprisingly well. Gwyn was actually kind of surprised at how well he took it. He had a lot of questions, which Gwyn answered the best she could, but when Gwyn explained about her mother's death, things seemed to clear up a bit for him.

"Kind of makes sense now, in a disturbing way," Evan commented as they headed away from her house and towards the Swann manor, where the reception was set to take place. Gwyn was still reluctant to go, but after much pleading on her stepbrother's part, she let in.

"So, could you have turned your dad into a toad or something? Or is it just your good nature that he's still human?" Evan asked teasingly. Gwyn laughed at the thought.

"Well, I haven't actually learned human transfiguration yet," she informed him. "We don't learn that until . . . I think fifth-year. Besides, I'm underage. I'm not allowed to do magic outside of school unless it's in life-threatening situations."

"Still, that chess set you showed me was pretty cool. Too bad that we don't have that kind of stuff." He paused at the door to his house, where his mother and her father were now celebrating their marriage. "You ready?"

Gwyn took a deep breath before looking at her stepbrother. "As I'll ever be," she answered steadily.

Evan nodded, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze as he pushed the door open. The manor had not been so crowded since Gwyn had been alive. People stood everywhere, talking about the new couple, who were out back dancing with several others. Gwyn shivered slightly as she and Evan walked through the crowds, heading towards the buffet table.

"Thank goodness my mum knows the good caterers," Evan said thankfully. Gwyn shook her head in amusement as he shovelled a piece of cake into this mouth.

"Boys," she murmured as she sampled some of the pasta that was sitting out. "So . . . when exactly do you plan for my date with destiny?" she inquired as she and Evan sat down with their plates of food.

"Don't know much about destiny, but . . . hi, Mum. William," he added as he looked over her shoulder. Gwyn nearly choked on her drink as Evan gave her a sympathetic look before standing up. Taking a deep breath, Gwyn slowly stood up, turning around to face her father for the first time in two years.

Any happiness that had been there before was instantly vanished the moment that William saw his wayward daughter. He scowled at her. "What are _you_ doing here?" he said rudely.

"Evan, who is this young lady?" the new Mrs. Swann said, looking between her husband and son expectantly.

"Uh . . ." Evan sent her an apologetic look before answering his mother. "Mum, this is Gwyn Swann. Gwyn, this is my mum."

Smiling towards her . . . stepmother, Gwyn held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Swann," she said quietly, casting a quick glance at her father, whose angry expression faltered. "Congratulations, to you both."

"Why, thank you." Mrs. Swann looked surprised, glancing towards her husband with a slight questioningly look. "It's very nice to finally meet you, Gwyn. Please, enjoy yourself. Evan, save some food for the guests, won't you?" she added as the couple walked away to greet with some of the other guests.

Evan made a face at his mother. "I'm not that bad, Mum," he complained. She only smiled as they walked away and he looked back towards Gwyn pointedly. "See? That wasn't so bad."

"Well, he wasn't about to make a scene in front of your mother, was he?" she pointed out. Her stepbrother chuckled and she shook her head. "I can't remember the last time I was at a wedding. Actually, I'm not sure I was ever at one, to be honest."

Grinning at her, Evan inquired, "So . . . . are you glad that you came?"

"You know, I am." Gwyn grinned as she looked towards her father, who was dancing with his wife. "I'm glad that they're happy. And your mum seems nice."

"Yeah, just with the wrong man," Evan muttered darkly. She looked at him sympathetically, remembering what he'd told her about his father, who travelled a lot because of his job. It was the only reason why he lived with his mother and William. "So when do you go back to school, anyway?"

"Well, officially, September 1st, but I have to go to London to get my books and stuff, plus I might go stay with some friends, providing Ron and his family get back from Egypt and Hermione from France."

Evan snorted. "They all go off and leave the country without you?"

"Not all of them. Harry's still in Surrey," Gwyn said with a shrug, folding her arms across her chest in annoyance.

It was strange, she thought, but she was actually enjoying spending time with Evan. The one thing that she had always envied with Ron was that he had so many brothers and a sister. It would've been nice to grow up with a sibling, to share things with. And now, Evan was slowly filling that gap that had been missing in her heart for a long time.

Once they were finished eating, Gwyn and Evan wandered through the house, occasionally saying hello to some people that Gwyn hadn't seen since before Hogwarts. Even though she had come back last summer, she hadn't really hung around with anyone, mostly because they believed the rumours that she was a delinquent who got shipped off to boarding school. But apart from a few snotty remarks from Isabelle Cleveland, no one said anything to her.

They passed through the living room, where almost every seat was filled and people were chatting while the television was turned on and a news report had been clicked on. It wouldn't have bothered Gwyn much, except for she heard the name "Black" from the reporter and she whipped around, blonde hair flying into her face as she stared at the television.

Sure enough, Sirius Black's face was plastered on the screen, bringing Gwyn back to reality.

"What is it?" Evan asked, seeing the look on her face before glancing at the television. "Do you know him?"

"No, I just know _of_ him," Gwyn said in an undertone, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. "He's one of _my_ kind and the first person who ever escaped from the prison in my world."

Evan stared at her in astonishment while Gwyn stared towards the screen again; if the Muggle world had been alerted to the danger, then obviously the situation was more dangerous than she'd originally thought.

So then why she had the strange feeling that Black wasn't a murderer?


	3. Her Mother's Diary

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Three: Her Mother's Diary

It was late at night when Gwyn was sitting in her bedroom, her face deep and pensive, her gaze fixed upon the sole picture that she had of her mother, the one of the two of them sitting outside of her house when she was a mere baby, barely even two.

Standing up, she walked over to her school trunk and opened it, sifting through her books until she found the one she was looking for; her mother's diary.

Picking up a leather bound book, she walked back over to her bed, sitting down upon it. "Mum, it's time to find out more about you than I was ever told," she whispered, unclasping the necklace that had once belonged to her mother from around her neck. The necklace had been given to her by Madeline two Christmases ago and she had rarely gone without it since then, but it was also the key to the diary, which had been presented to her by her headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, at the end of the last term.

Taking a deep breath, Gwyn opened the locket and pressed it into the keyhole, releasing the lock that had not been opened in twelve years. Gwyn smiled as she turned the first page of the smooth, cream-coloured pages, the inscribed words as fresh and crisp as though they had been written there that same day.

Her mother had beautiful handwriting, she noticed immediately. Soft and elegant cursive was displayed on the page. She wrote her "n"s the same way that Gwyn did, unaware that her daughter was sitting in one of her friends' homes, eagerly awaiting to learn more about her mother's past . . . and the heritage that had been handed down to her.

_September 1__st__, 1971_

_It's finally here! The day that I'm going to leave my horrible mansion and horrid parents so that I can go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time! Although I have to admit, I am a bit nervous. What if nobody there likes me? I am a __Toren__, after all. The only people who like us are the ones who are exactly like us. Vile, dreadful, arrogant, pure-blooded wizards who think that the most important thing is not having a drop of Muggle blood in their veins . . ._

_Oh, sorry, dearest diary, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Aurora Toren, the only daughter of Cormack and Fainne Toren. My older brother Gillian is already at Hogwarts—he's a third-year now—and already on his way to being an arrogant toad, complete with calling everyone of lower class—in other words, half-bloods and Muggle-borns—names that no one is polite conversations use. _

_In other words, he's perfect in my parents' eyes. _

_I hate them all. Apparently, I can't do anything right in my mother and father's eyes. Mother spent all her time fawning over Gil when we were younger, not having any time for me. And now that I'm eleven years old, she's under the impression that I'm just a four-year-old girl again who needs to be taken care of. And don't get me started on Father. It's clear that he never even wanted a daughter, so he just ignores me most of the time, except to ridicule everything that I do and tell me that I'll never make any respectable pure-blood wizard a good wife if I keep this up. _

_Anyway, so last night, I recklessly decided to retaliate when he started ridiculing me again. Just when he was taking a breath—in between calling for more wine—I told him, "Well, Father, if no pure-blood wizard will marry me, then maybe I'll find a nice Muggle to marry." _

_It was worth the two hours of shouting and my ears going numb just to see the look on his face. Mother was completely mortified by my remark. She's probably going through her lists of respectable husbands in order to make a betrothal as soon as possible before I get any funny ideas . . . _

_Oh, who cares? I'm sick of writing about them, anyway. Today, I'm going to Hogwarts and I'll be away from them. I'm hoping—_praying—_that I'm not going to be in Slytherin like the rest of my family. Then I'll never be able to escape from Gil and I sure won't be making any friends. Anything would be better than that forsaken House. If I have a choice, then I'm going to stay as far away from them as I can. _

_Uh-oh. Mother's coming. If there's one thing that I don't want any of them to find, it's this diary. This is the only place that I can confide my deepest, darkest secrets and release my true feelings. _

_Until later. _

Gwyn didn't realise that she was crying until she reached up, her hand going over her mouth and she felt wetness on her cheeks. Her mother had some of the same fears she had when first going to Hogwarts: so afraid that she wasn't going to be making any friends and that nobody would like her.

Slowly, she turned the page to the next entry, eager to read more about her mother's history.

_September 2__nd__, 1971_

_I'm so sorry that I didn't get a chance to write last night! Everything was so exciting that I didn't want to miss any second of it and then when we came up to the dormitory, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep with my clothes still on, something that my fellow Gryffindor girls were still laughing at come morning. _

_That's right, my friend, I, Aurora Marianna Toren, have made history by shaming generations of my family and entering the Gryffindor House, prided for its bravery and gallantry. I was so nervous when we were being sorted that I thought I wasn't going to be able to move. Then when my name was called, I sat on the stool in front and the Sorting Hat was placed on my head and I heard this voice speaking to me in my ear. _

"Strange, how very strange. The last of the Toren family, I see, and quite talented. And a seer, too, now that's very interesting and the intelligence handed down through generations . . . but courage and nerve that have only been seen by a GRYFFINDOR!" _The last word was shouted across the room and I couldn't stop myself from sticking my tongue out at my brother's outraged and horrified expression, hurrying to the Gryffindor table. _

_Oh, I forgot to mention! I made a new friend, too, right when I first stepped on the train. Her name is Lily Evans. She's really nice, though I doubt Mother and Father will approve. She's Muggle-born. Like that really matters. I told her that much when she and this guy Severus Snape came into my compartment. He doesn't seem so bad, but I've got this weird feeling about him, like he's going to turn out to be the bad guy. _

_The other girls in my dormitory are pretty nice as well. Madeline Cullen, Alice McCoy, and Eileen Connelly. I really hope that we all are good friends. _

_Oops! I took too long when I was writing and I'm going to be late for breakfast if I don't hurry!_

_Plus, I still have to _find_ the Great Hall again . . . _

"Lily Evans . . ." Gwyn gasped in shock, tracing over the words in surprise, her eyes going wide. There it was, in plain ink. And besides, she had known for years that her mother had been good friends with Harry's parents, but to see it there . . . it made it seem realer, somehow.

It was so amazing that she could be friends with the son of her mother's best friend, but that was the strange thing about fate and its wacky sense of humour. Gwyn smiled as she returned to the diary, her eyelids fluttering slightly and reading her mother's words soon sent the blonde witch to sleep, a gentle voice from a distant past reading the words to her.

--

_September 12__th__, 1971_

_Wow, I can't believe that it's been twelve days since I first came here! Everything been going so wonderfully that I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up one day and find that everything's just a dream and the harsh reality is that I'm still at home with my parents. _

_My favourite class so far has to be Potions. I don't know, there's just something really relaxing about brewing the concoctions. Lily loves it too, she's one of the best in our year, besides Snape, that boy from the train. He still gives me the creeps, but Lily seems to like him okay. This is the only place that I can say that she's completely mental. We've barely been here two weeks and already, I've heard him call three people the M word behind Lily's back. I haven't had the heart to tell her this, though . . . _

_Of course, with the boys that we're stuck with in Gryffindor, it's no wonder that she's friends with him. The five boys in our year are completely insufferable gits, which is probably why four of them are best friends. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew have been causing trouble since they set foot in this place. _

_Remus isn't so bad, I guess. He's actually the only one of them that I can actually have a decent conversation with, though it's hard to get him out of one of his books. Of course, the strange thing happened a few days ago. He disappeared almost in the middle of the night and didn't turn up for three days. . . . He claimed that he was ill, but Alice had made a mistake in Potions and had to go there, so she didn't see him there . . . it's all very strange. _

_Okay, I'm doing it again. I'm obsessing. Enough, Aurora, what if somebody finds this and thinks you're completely mental? _

_Of course, if things go the way that I want them to, then my daughter will be reading this one day when I decide that she's ready to learn about my somewhat unruly behaviour, teasing me about being so disorderly when I was a child. I imagine a beautiful little girl, with my blonde hair and looks just like me, except for the blue eyes. A beautiful, vivid shade of blue that shines like the sky on a clear day. That's how I always see her when I have dreams about my future family. Things change in my dreams sometimes, the house, where we live, and my husband is always an obscure figure, but her? My beautiful little girl? She always remains the same . . ._

Gwyn, who had woken up at dawn, was engrossed in the diary again as she lay curled up on her bed, the sunshine filling in through her window and darkening her bedside lamp as she turned further in the diary.

_December 11__th__, 1975_

_Our world is starting to crumble around us. Every day, in the paper, I hear more stories about family and friends being murdered. I keep wondering when it's going to be someone I care about, someone who is close to me. Lily is afraid for her parents, her sister. One of the attacks that Voldemort launched was near her village, but she's heard from them and they're safe. But for how long? _

_Gil is getting more and more insufferable. Every time I see him, it's like he thinks I'm going to change my mind about who I've sided with and go join up with the Death Eaters, as he's done. He's going to graduate this year and I don't think it'll take him two seconds to go get branded like the rest of those idiots. _

_I don't care who finds this diary, I'm writing it here and now: I absolutely loathe Voldemort and I swear, one day, he will be defeated. Maybe not in my lifetime or my daughter's or my daughter's daughter, but he will go down, even if I have to return from the dead to do it. _

Shivering slightly at her mother's words, which felt like a curse on their own, Gwyn touched the necklace as she returned to the darker parts of the diary, carrying Voldemort's uprising.

_In an effort to cheer everybody up and get their minds off of the war that is happening outside Hogwarts' walls, Professor Dumbledore has decided to throw a ball for Christmas. Despite myself, I can't help but feel excited about it. I got asked by several boys, including one Theodore Nott from Slytherin, which I think had mostly to do with my idiotic brother, but you're never going to guess who finally asked me at the last minute. _

_Sirius. _

_I know, I was so shocked that I said yes before I even thought about it and now, I can't get out of it. He'll—_

_**Hey, just thought I'd pop in for a few words. Sirius Black here. Oh, don't lose your hair, Aurora, I'll give it back to you. Now, just to correct a few things, I did not ask her out at the last second. Plus, she's been following me around like a lovesick puppy since second year, so I thought I would give her a break—**_

_I have _not_ been following you around, you annoying, sick, perverted, moronic troublemaker who—_

_**Hey, I'm talking here! Where was I? Oh, yeah, I was being nice and cutting her a break when I asked her. Besides, she's one of the prettiest girls here and who'll look better than me with her?**_

_Let me think here . . . quite a few people come to mind, Sirius. Remus, James, that sixth-year from Ravenclaw, the one who never can keep his tie straight, let me see . . . _

_Thank goodness! He's gone back and talking to James again. I'm going to pound him later for writing in this diary. Or even better, maybe I'll slip some of that voice-changing potion to give him a squeaky high voice. I'm pretty sure that I've got all of the ingredients . . . _

Gwyn giggled as she finished the entry, glancing up as Madeline opened the door, looking at her with a smile. "You ready to go?" she asked. "We've got to hurry, Gwyn, if I'm going to drop you off at Diagon Alley before I go to work. You're sure that you'll be all right there for until term starts?"

"I'll be fine," she assured her. "Don't worry." Madeline, as she worked for the Department of Magical Sports and Games, sometimes had to leave the country for weeks at a time. This was one of those times. "I'm ready."

She slipped her diary back into her trunk as they carried it downstairs and into the car, driving towards Diagon Alley, where unknown to her, a dark-haired wizard was already there . . .


	4. Back to Diagon Alley

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Four: Back to Diagon Alley

It was very late by the time that they got to London and got Gwyn a room at the Leaky Cauldron. Gwyn was sure that there wasn't going to be any available rooms this time of night, but room thirteen was free and after Madeline helped her carry her trunk and things up, the blonde witch headed downstairs to say goodbye to her guardian.

"Goodbye, my dear," Madeline said softly as she hugged Gwyn tightly, brushing her hair out of her face and cupping it tenderly. "I'll see you next summer . . . unless you'd prefer to come to America this year instead for Christmas?" she added with a teasing smile. Gwyn chuckled; she had spent the last two Christmases at Hogwarts rather than travel to America to spend it with Madeline and her sister.

"We'll see," she said with a grin back at her guardian. "I just don't like leaving Harry alone with Ron. If I leave those two alone, then there might not be any Hogwarts to come back to." Madeline laughed as she tousled Gwyn's blonde hair affectionately.

"Be good this year, Gwyn," she said, a bit of reprimanding in her voice. "I mean it, young lady. These past two years . . ."

"Hey, they weren't my fault," Gwyn protested. "Well, not entirely," she added, quailing under Madeline's reprimanding look. "I didn't ask Voldemort to try and steal the Stone or for Malfoy to plant Riddle's diary on someone to open the Chamber of Secrets. And honestly, where would we be if my friends and I hadn't gone to stop them?" She folded her arms across her chest and raised her eyebrows at her guardian, who shook her head, amusement crossing her face as she sighed.

"No doubt, we'd be where we were twelve years ago," she muttered. "But I'm serious, Gwyn. This business with Black . . . you don't know how dangerous he is."

Gwyn frowned. "He didn't exactly fit the madman profile when I was reading Mum's diary," she said quietly. Madeline sighed as she ran her hand over her eyes tiredly. The escape from Azkaban had caused overtime in the Ministry, even in her department.

"He was a different person back then," she said quietly. "I'll admit that I was surprised that Black could've turned his back on his friends and turned traitor, but the evidence was overwhelming. A dozen eyewitnesses saw him blast apart that entire street . . ." She sighed and shook her head. "Whatever you might read in that diary, Gwyn . . . you have to remember that Black is dangerous, vicious menace to everyone around him. He's not the same man that your mother and I knew. Promise me that you'll be careful this year. Okay?" she added when Gwyn didn't respond right away.

"I promise," Gwyn assured her, hugging her tightly. She could practically sense the anxiety coming off of Madeline in waves as her guardian pulled away, patting her shoulder.

"Good girl," she said softly. Gwyn smiled back at her as Madeline sighed, glancing towards the time. "Well, it's time for me to go. Goodbye, dearest," she said as she hugged Gwyn once more before heading towards the door.

"Bye," Gwyn sighed as she waved goodbye to her guardian, watching her from the doorway as she climbed into the car and pulled into the traffic, slowly disappearing further and further fro view, until she was only a tiny dot on the horizon. Gwyn sighed as she closed the door, glancing once around the Leaky Cauldron, which was empty save for one person.

"No way," she gasped, surprise flying through her as she saw the messy dark haired boy that was sitting a few tables away. A smile spread across her face as she slipped through the tables, finally coming to a stop at the occupied one, tapping the boy's shoulder.

"Sorry, but you look just like this friend of mine," Gwyn said teasingly as Harry Potter turned around and gawked up at her. "Do you mind if I take a picture? It's really amazing. You two could be twins."

"Gwyn!" Harry got to his feet and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Gwyn laughed as she hugged him back. He had grown a few inches over the summer, but he was still shorter than half the kids in their year. "I don't believe it! What are you doing here?"

"Madeline had to go do some stuff with her department and she was going out of town—out of the country, actually—so she dropped me off here. I'm staying here until school starts. What are you doing here?"

"You didn't hear?" Harry asked incredulously. "Come on, sit down, I'll explain . . ."

Five minutes later, Gwyn was shaking her head at her best friend. "You blew up your _aunt_?" she asked, trying to smother her giggles and failing miserably. She couldn't help it; it was funny and it sounded like Ms. Dursley certainly deserved it.

"I didn't mean to," Harry said weakly, though he grinned at Gwyn's laughter. "I just . . . lost control." Gwyn laughed even harder, almost crying she was laughing so hard. "Anyway, I've been here for about three days. Hedwig showed up the same night I got here."

"So _that's_ where she went!" Gwyn had wondered where the owl had flown off to. "Honestly, I was worried that you were gonna kill me for losing her . . ."

"I wouldn't have killed you!" Harry protested. "Maybe gave you an earful, but never kill you." Gwyn smiled as Harry looked at her. "It's so good to see you, Gwyn. I missed you."

Gwyn smiled back at her best friend. "I missed you, too," she said softly. "So how's your summer been?"

"Lousy. How about you?"

"Let's see . . . my dad got remarried, practically slaughtered me when I turned up for the reception with my stepbrother, and I told my stepbrother about the little family secret," Gwyn said, ticking off the events of recent weeks. "All in all, not a bad summer."

"You told your stepbrother?" Harry asked incredulously. "How did he take it?"

"Surprisingly well," Gwyn admitted, smiling as she remembered Evan's reaction. "It might sound strange, but I think he's more accepting to it than Dad ever was. I don't know, I'm kind of warming up to the idea of having a brother. Does that sound crazy?"

"I know what you mean," Harry said with a small smile. "Sometimes I wish I had six brothers and a sister like Ron does."

Gwyn nodded, stifling a yawn behind her hand, which Harry immediately noticed. "Okay, you're exhausted. You should get to bed," he ordered. The blonde witch tried to protest, but eventually gave in. "What room are you in?" he asked as they climbed up the stairs and they said good night at their respective rooms before turning in for the night.

The last coherent thought that Gwyn had before her head touched the pillow was that she was so lucky to have such amazing friends that were more than just her friends; they were family.

--

Harry had already gotten his school stuff beforehand, but he still walked around with Gwyn as she went to go get her new books and to fill up on her potions supplies and everything else that she needed. Several days passed by before they started looking for Ron and Hermione, who had just returned from the country. They were just heading towards Quality Quidditch Supplies so Harry could show her the first-rate broom that they had in the windows when they heard two voices calling their names.

"It's about time!" Gwyn said as they slid into the table at the ice cream parlour. "We were wondering when you two were going to get here. How was Egypt and France?"

"Never mind that," Ron said excitedly, turning to Harry interestedly. "Did you really blow up your aunt?" Hermione looked disapprovingly at Harry, who shrugged and nodded.

"It's not funny, Ronald," Hermione said, her tone sharp. "I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."

"I think I was lucky not to be arrested, actually," Harry said dryly before turning to Ron. "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably because it's you, isn't it? Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry would do if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would have killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron as well. So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"

"Excellent!" Harry said as Hermione nodded eagerly as Gwyn noticed the rat that was half-hovering in Ron's pocket.

"What's wrong with Scabbers, Ron?" she asked, pointing and Ron sighed, pulling him out onto the table.

"He's been like this ever since I brought him back from Egypt," he explained, showing them the ancient rat that had been Ron's companion for as long as they'd known him. "I don't think it's agreed with him."

"Or maybe the news about Black's got him worked up," Gwyn mused, prodding Scabbers carefully. "Madeline was worried when she dropped me off here. I've never seen her so worried . . ."

"Well, there's a magical creature shop over there," Harry said, pointing in the next street over. "You can get Scabbers checked out there."

"Good idea," Hermione said happily. "I wanted to get an owl anyway. Mum and Dad gave me some money to get an early birthday present."

"Why don't you get yourself a nice book?" Ron said. Gwyn kicked him underneath the table, giving him a dirty look. "Jeez, Gwyn! When did you learn how to kick so hard?"

"Schoolyard bullies," Gwyn said solemnly. "You get picked on every day at school as a kid, you learn how to kick hard and accurately really fast." Harry laughed as they got up, paying for the ice cream and headed towards the shop.

While Ron and Harry waited for the witch in charge of the shop to take a look at Scabbers, Gwyn and Hermione wandered through the shop to take a look at the various animals that inhabited there. Gwyn was studying the a rabbit that kept changing into a black hat when she heard some kind of commotion up front and she hurried up ahead just in time to see Ron and Harry hurrying out the door, chasing down Scabbers and Hermione was cradling a giant orange cat in her arms, looking elated.

"Look at him, Gwyn!" she squealed, stroking the cat affectionately, who purred in her arms.

"He's . . . something, all right," Gwyn acknowledged. She loved cats and owned one—albeit much smaller than this one—that she had named Tabby, but the cat looked like a cross between a cat and a tiger that had been smashed into a wall. "You gonna buy him?"

"Already bought," Hermione said happily as she pocketed some rat tonic that had been prescribed for Scabbers. "Come on, let's go find the boys; they went to chase down Scabbers."

Gwyn shook her head, smiling; Hermione was one of the most practical, level-headed people that she knew, yet that little monster could turn her into a little pool of liquid. It was amazing, she thought as she followed Hermione out of the store to track down the boys.

It didn't take them very long; they were coming out of the alleyway behind the Quidditch shop when the approached. Ron actually gaped at Hermione when he saw the cat that was in Hermione's arms. "You bought that monster?" he demanded.

"He's _gorgeous_, isn't he?" Hermione asked them.

Harry caught Gwyn's eyes and both of them tried not to smile, looking away before they started laughing. They had never seen Hermione get so enamoured after anything or anybody—except for Professor Lockhart the previous year and that hardly even counted, because half of the school was drooling after him, excluding the boys and Gwyn.

While Ron and Hermione argued about Crookshanks and Scabbers, they walked back to the Leaky Cauldron, where Mr. Weasley was reading the _Daily Prophet_ in the bar. After greetings, the conversation turned to Sirius Black, who was still at large and exceedingly dangerous, when the rest of the Weasley family arrived.

"Gwyn, so good to see you," Fred said once he and his twin brother George had finished mocking their brother Percy. "How wonderful to see you!"

With a laugh, Gwyn grinned at the troublemakers of the Weasley family. "Hey, Fred, hey, George," she said, sitting down. "How have you two been?"

--

"How are we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" Fred asked when they were well into dessert following five delicious courses in the Leaky Cauldron bar.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," Mr. Weasley replied without looking up. Gwyn looked around at him, along with the rest of the group, all of them surprised by this piece of information.

"Why?" Percy asked.

"It's because of you, Perce," George said, his tone serious. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them—"

"For Humongous Bighead," chimed in his twin.

Gwyn had a very hard time smothering her laughter as everyone else snorted into their pudding, save for Percy and Mrs. Weasley. "So . . . seriously, why are they sending cars?" she inquired, trying to make her query sound casual, but she could help but feel the anxiety coming off of Mr. Weasley as much as it had gone off of Madeline.

"Well, we haven't gone one, anymore," Mr. Weasley said calmly. "And as I work there, they're doing me a favour . . ." His tone was casual, portraying none of the anxiety Gwyn sensed, though his ears had gone red, as Ron's usually did under pressure.

"Good thing, too," Mrs. Weasley added. "Do you realise how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground. . . . You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," Percy informed his mother. "He's dumped them on my bed."

It was still very early when they retired to their rooms and Gwyn sat down on her bed, checking everything to make sure she hadn't forgotten something. Her cat Tabby meowed from the bed, jumping down to rub his mistress's ankles. She smiled as she sat down next to him, stroking him between the ears as she pulled her mother's diary out of the trunk, turning to the entry that Black had written in eighteen years previously . . .

"How can it be the same man, Tabby?" she said softly, running her hands over her eyes distractedly. "How can Black be the same man that Mum knew?"

But there was no one to answer her question.


	5. Back to School

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Five: Back to School

It was still early the next morning when Gwyn was woken up by Tabby, who was pawing at his mistress and playing with her blonde hair affectionately. "Aw, Tabby, come on, it's still the crack of dawn," she complained, trying to shove her cat off her, but the persistent animal just kept pawing at her and even bit on her hand affectionately a couple times, forcing her to get up. "I swear, I should've taken Madeline up on that offer to get an owl," she grumbled as Tabby dropped down to the floor as she got up, her nightdress falling around her as she walked over to the window, yawning as she looked out.

The sun was barely streaking over the horizon, turning into a mixture of colours that took Gwyn's breath away. She picked up Tabby as he rubbed her ankles and sat down at the window, watching as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky, sending night away with its unearthly glow.

When Gwyn finally moved away from the window to get dressed, a knock came on the door. "Gwyn!" Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, called through the door. "Mum wanted me to make sure you were awake! We're going to have breakfast downstairs before the cars get here!"

"I'll be right down!" Gwyn called, coaxing Tabby to climb into his cage, making sure that there was plenty of cat food to last him until the train. He didn't seem happy about being shoved into a cage again, but she finally managed to get him inside before pulling on some Muggle clothes.

When she was decent, she headed downstairs to have a quick breakfast with Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley was telling the girls about a love potion she'd made as a girl when she arrived, having run into Harry and Ron on the way down. Harry had been on the verge of telling them something when they were interrupted by the twins.

"What's going on?" Gwyn whispered to him when they sat down, but he shook his head pointedly.

"I'll tell you guys later," he whispered, also to Ron, who was listening closely. Gwyn frowned at him, but didn't argue, as there was no time to have a long conversation during the chaos of getting to the train. She had a hard enough time dragging her trunk down the stairs with Tabby's cage, who was meowing loudly, begging to be let out, and Gwyn was having a hard time refusing him.

Gwyn wasn't sure what was wrong, but she did notice that Mr. Weasley insisted on escorting Harry to the dark green Ministry cars when they arrived, driven by two wizards in emerald velvet, even though the journey to the cars from the Leaky Cauldron was a fairly short trip.

Whatever he wanted to tell them, it was clear that they weren't going to have that particular conversation while both the Ministry worker and Percy were in hearing distance. Gwyn had the strange feeling, deep where her Seer powers were developed, that whatever he had to tell them had to do with Sirius Black and his escape from Azkaban.

Despite Madeline's warnings about him, Gwyn still couldn't find it in her heart to believe that the man in her mother's journal and the escape convict were one of the same. It just seemed impossible.

They way that her mother described him, Black was a carefree, reckless, headstrong prankster who enjoyed being the "white sheep of the Black family." Gwyn had laughed when she had read that part, unable to stop the laughter from escaping.

Still, it was so hard to believe that the boy in the journal could grow up to be a mass murderer and follower of Voldemort. Gwyn sighed, running her hand through her hair as they pulled into King's Cross Station with twenty minutes before the train left.

The group moved through the station before finally reaching Platforms Nine and Ten. This was always the tricky part about getting to school; getting through the two platforms without attracting Muggle attention. Gwyn waited as Mr. Weasley went through with Harry, followed by the twins, Percy and Ginny, and then Mrs. Weasley went with her and Hermione and they came out on Platform 9 ¾, where the Hogwarts Express was already prepared to go.

Looking towards where witches and wizards—and even some Muggles—were saying goodbye to their children, Gwyn felt a sharp pain in her heart as she silently pushed her trunk and said goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, who gave all of them a hug in goodbye before they boarded the train, save for Harry. He had been herded away by Mr. Weasley.

"What's he doing?" Gwyn demanded, peering out the window as the guards began to close the door. "He's going to miss the train!"

"Harry!" Ron yelled through the window. "Come on, hurry it up, mate!" Mrs. Weasley was quickly ushering Harry to the train as it began to move and Ron threw the door open again to let him back on, closing it when Harry pulled himself on board.

"What's wrong?" Gwyn asked her best friend as she helped him to his feet, looking at him worriedly.

"I need to talk to you guys in private," he muttered as they collected their things to search for a compartment. Ginny was walking with them, so Ron turned to his sister.

"Go away, Ginny," he said rudely.

"Ron!" Gwyn said, giving him a look as Ginny opened her mouth to retaliate. "How do you live with him?" she asked, looking at the younger girl in bewilderment. Ron made a face at her while Ginny gave the blonde witch a dazzling smile.

"Practice," she answered simply. "Lots and lots of practice."

Gwyn grinned. "Well, what your darling brother meant to say was, would you mind leaving us alone to talk for a bit?"

"So long as you ask it like that, I don't," Ginny said, sticking her tongue out at her brother, who did the mature thing and stuck his own right back at her. "I'm gonna go see if I can find Loony—I mean, Luna."

Only when Ginny was out of sight and they had managed to find an empty compartment—or at least one with free seats in it. The only occupant was a young wizard in his early to mid thirties, wearing particularly shabby robes and had slightly grey hair, though he wasn't particularly old.

"Who do you reckon he is?" Ron inquired when they shut the door as quietly as they could and sat down, not wanting to wake him.

"Professor R.J. Lupin," Hermione said immediately.

"How do you know everything?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes. "How is it that she knows everything?" he directed at the other two.

"It's on his suitcase," Gwyn replied, pointing at the luggage rack. She had noticed the suitcase only after Hermione had said it, noting the name _Professor R.J. Lupin _upon it, the letters peeling. The name "Lupin" struck her memory for some reason, but she couldn't think of where. "He must be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

In the past two years, they'd had two difference Defence teachers: Professor Quirrell and Professor Lockhart. Quirrell had been working for Voldemort the entire time, plotting to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, and had been killed when Harry had gone to face him. Lockhart had lost his memory due to a broken wand in the Chamber of Secrets. Rumour was it that the job was jinxed.

"Hope he's up to it," Ron said, looking doubtful. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off. Anyway . . . what were you going to tell us?" he asked, looking at Harry.

Five minutes later, Gwyn had her mouth covered, looking at her best friend with wide eyes, fear running through her. "Sirius Black escaped Azkaban to come after _you_?" she whispered.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione whispered. "You'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble—"

"I don't go looking for trouble," Harry pointed out, annoyed. "Trouble usually finds me."

"But they'll catch Black, won't they?" Hermione said, her voice earnest. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles out for him, too. . . ."

"Sure," Ron said. "Except no one's ever escaped from Azkaban before and he was one of the top-security prisoners too. Not to mention, he's a murdering, raving lunatic."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said sarcastically. Gwyn ran her fingers through her hair fretfully, trying to think as she looked towards the window, where the rain was splattering against the windows as the conversation turned to the Hogsmeade visits. Ron was describing the sweets in a sweetshop called Honeydukes while Hermione tried, unsuccessfully, to get information about the village's historical aspects.

When that proved fruitless, Hermione turned to the other two. Gwyn was trying very hard to hide a smile; even without seer powers, she could tell that, despite their constant arguments and that they drove each other crazy, they were deeply attracted to one another. Of course, Hermione would probably be the first to realise this; girls were always faster than boys on that sort of thing.

"Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?" she asked.

"Yeah, it should be fun," Gwyn said, grinning at her only girl friend before turning to Harry. Her smile vanished when she saw the look on his face, reading it instantly.

"Suppose it will," Harry told them grimly. "You'll have to tell me when you've found out. I can't go. The Dursleys didn't sign my permission form and Fudge wouldn't either."

Ron's mouth dropped open in horror. "_You're not allowed to come?_ But—no way—McGonagall or someone will give you permission—"

"McGonagall?" Gwyn repeated with a short laugh. "Good luck with that. It's not like with Snape, Ron. She doesn't favour students in her own house."

"Or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle," Ron continued as though Gwyn hadn't spoken.

His suggestion, however, caused both girls to glare at him. Hermione, because she hardly ever broke the rules and only when they were in dire danger. Gwyn, however, was more concerned about Harry's safety than anything else. Even though she had her doubts about Black's guilt, Gwyn couldn't say that he was innocent without any proof. Like it or not, people really could change from a reckless, carefree boy into a murderer.

"Ron, with Black on the loose, I really don't think that this is the time to be sneaking out of school," Gwyn said reasonably. Harry didn't look happy at her comment, but he reluctantly nodded. Ron was not as convinced.

"But if we're with him, Black wouldn't dare—"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ronald," Hermione snapped at him while she was undoing the straps on Crookshanks' cage to let him out. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because three underage, teenage witches and wizards are with him?"

"Don't let that thing out!" Ron complained, moving out of the way just as the cat was about to bounce on him to attack Scabbers. "Get out of here!"

"Ron, Professor Lupin," Gwyn warned him, nodding to the still-sleeping teacher, who stirred by slept on. When they were sure that Lupin was still sleeping, they continued talking in low whispers, not daring to speak any louder. Meanwhile, the scenery moved away from the Muggle countryside and became wilder and darker as the hours passed by and soon, the witch with the food cart was coming by.

Gwyn bought some Chocolate Frogs and a few packs of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, her two favourite sweets in the wizarding world. She bought an extra pack, because she'd promised Evan that she'd send him some when she told him about Bertie Botts over the summer. She was still wondering how she was going to get them to him, as her father wasn't fond of owl delivery, while Hermione approached Professor Lupin.

"Professor?" she asked cautiously. "Excuse me, Professor?" But the DADA teacher didn't move, didn't even shift from his slumber.

""Don't worry, dear," the witch assured her as Harry paid for his Cauldron Cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."

She closed the compartment door behind her before moving on.

"He is asleep, isn't he?" Gwyn sought to confirm.

"Yeah, he hasn't died, has he?" Ron asked, glancing over at their new professor. Hermione shook her head.

"No, he's still breathing," she assured them as they began moving into the sweets. Gwyn smiled happily as the chocolate melted onto her tongue, sending her into a state of happiness. For some odd reason, Gwyn made sure she saved one for later—something that she would be extremely grateful for later on.

It was about midafternoon when the last person that they wanted to see before they arrived at school came strolling into their compartment. Draco Malfoy sneered at them as he was flanked by his two "bodyguards," Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

Ever since her first day at Hogwarts, Gwyn couldn't stand the sight of Malfoy, for the very reason that he insulted her friends, their families, and even her, calling her the "Toren spawn." As her mother was a Toren, one of the proudest pure-blood families in the wizarding world, she had pretty much shamed the entire line when she had chose to marry a Muggle and have a daughter with him. While Gwyn had seen her two cousins, Alaric and Morgause Toren, she hadn't exactly spoken to them, nor had she met her uncle or grandparents before. And from what Ron had told her about them, it was probably for the best.

"Well, look who it is," Malfoy sneered. "Potty and the Weasley." Gwyn rolled her eyes; couldn't they come up with something a bit more original? "I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley. Did your mother die of shock?"

Ron stood up quickly and Gwyn shot Harry a look as they joined him, not sure whether they were going to stop Ron from attacking Malfoy or help him. Gwyn withdrew her wand, her eyes narrowed at the blond wizard. Hermione cleared her throat in warning, but said nothing.

"Who's that?" Malfoy asked, noticing Lupin for the first time as his eyes drifted towards Hermione.

"New teacher," Harry replied. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"

Malfoy frowned in annoyance, but he wasn't going to pick a fight right in front of a teacher. "Come on," he said coolly to his bodyguards.

Before they could make it through the door, Gwyn smiled pleasantly at their retreating backs. "See you, ferret," she said smoothly. Malfoy's eyes flashed to her, but she shut the door before he could get in another word, replacing her wand.

"Ferret?" Harry asked her, his green eyes holding a bit of amusement as he looked up at her. Gwyn shrugged.

"It just sounded right."

"I'm not going to take any of his mouth this year," Ron said savagely as he sat down, massaging his knuckles angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and—" He made a violent gesture in midair.

"Ron, be careful!" Hermione whispered, pointing at Lupin, who had miraculously slept through the entire thing.

Gwyn, however, agreed with him. "I'm with Ron. I'm getting really tired of his mouth," she grumbled. "If he calls me 'The Toren Spawn' one more time . . ."

"I thought you'd learned to ignore that," Harry asked, looking over at her. She sighed.

"Yeah, I have, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't bother me," she muttered as Ron stuffed another Cauldron Cake into his mouth.

"Don't know why it bothers you. They're a bunch of gits, Gwyn."

"It's different, Ron," Gwyn told him, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned against the seats, glancing out the windows. "It's not _your_ heritage. It's not _your _family."

No one argued with her after that as they continued the journey in silence. Gwyn eventually pulled one of her Charms books out of her trunk to read, her head leaning against the window, but in reality, she was just thinking. In less than two years, she had lost her father, gained a new guardian, stepmother, and stepbrother, and found out about two cousins she never knew she had. And only Madeline and Evan were the ones who accepted her, knowing everything about her and who she was.

Maybe it was selfish, but she wanted some family, her own blood relatives, to accept her for who she was, welcome her into the fold. But unless she gave up being a witch, she didn't think her father was going to be too welcoming. And unless she wanted to be a Death Eater-in-training, she didn't see her mother's family doing that either. Gwyn suppressed a sigh, glancing towards the window through the rain.

"Gwyn?" Harry asked her quietly and she glanced sideways at him. "Are you okay?" His green eyes were worried. She nodded. "Just so you know . . . I get it."

"I know you do," Gwyn said softly with a smile at him as he squeezed her hand. She sighed. "Are families really this difficult or are they really simple and we just make it worse?"

Harry paused, his eyes teasing. "For me, it's complicated," he replied, his tone serious. "You just make it worse." Gwyn made a face at him as she fake punched him, noticing that the train was slowing down as she did so.

"Great," Ron said happily as she turned towards the window, wiping down the vapour from the window to see outside. Harry peered over her shoulder. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast. . . ."

"We can't be there yet?" Hermione protested, glancing down at her watch as Gwyn's seer powers went screaming in warning.

"So why are we stopping?"

"Somebody's coming," Gwyn whispered, her eyes fluttering closed as she tried to shake her head to clear it, feeling her friends' gazes flicker to her. "Something's coming aboard."

Harry stood up and walked over to the compartment door, opening it just as the train came a jolt, throwing him back into his seat, almost on top of Gwyn, and the lamps went out just as the luggage fell out of the lamps.

"What's going on?" Ron asked in the darkness.

"Ouch, Ron!" Hermione hissed. "That was my foot!"

"Do you think we've broken down?" Harry asked as he pushed himself off of Gwyn, who felt her cheeks flaming, grateful that none of them could see her as she peered out the window again.

"There's something moving out there," she said, her voice unsteady, slightly afraid. "They're getting on board."

"Do you what they are?" Hermione asked urgently. Gwyn shook her head, forgetting that they couldn't see her.

"No . . . but they're not human."

At that same moment, Neville Longbottom, a forgetful Gryffindor boy in their year, came in, trying to figure out what was going on, followed by Ginny, who was looking for Ron. There was some commotion as everybody tried to get to a seat before Professor Lupin woke up at last.

"Quiet," he told them, casting light into the apartment with a handful of fire, revealing his tired face, but Gwyn noted that his eyes were vigilant and cautious. He moved past them with the fire in his hands. "Stay where you are."

But before he reached the door, it opened and something slid into view. A cloaked figure that cast a cold, hopeless feeling over Gwyn. Its hand was like a corpse that had been found underwater after far too long. Her stomach contracted as whatever it was seemed to suck something from its surroundings.

Gwyn whimpered as she staggered against the seats, gripping her blonde hair as she felt everything around her plunge into darkness. The only thing that she felt was absolute hopelessness, as though she had been shoved into a world where hope and passion no longer existed.

The despair and bleakness and misery swept through her, sending her to her knees, a hazy feeling crossing her mind. And then images swept through her mind . . . she saw a street full of screaming people . . . and a flash of blonde hair as someone took hold of her . . . but she didn't want the blonde woman to go . . . she wanted her to stay . . .

The memory was overwhelming her, but even through that, she saw some kind of silver light appearing through the compartment, pushing away the darkness and despair. Gwyn couldn't move, couldn't breathe, until the thing was gone and even then, her limbs refused to work on their own.

Lupin crouched down next to her. "Gwyn, isn't it?" he asked kindly and she managed a small, unsteady nod. "Easy now, you're all right. It's gone now. Here," he added, retrieving one of the Chocolate Frogs from her pocket and unwrapping it for her. "Eat this. It'll help."

Managing to force her unsteady hand to accepting the chocolate, Gwyn pushed it into her mouth. Her limbs relaxed visibly as she did so and she felt warmth spread across her as she slowly sat up, seeing Harry lying motionless on the seat across from her.

"Harry!" she said quickly, ignoring her weakened state and hurried over to him, squatting down next to him. "Is he okay?" she asked, looking at Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville, who apart from being pale and frightened, were otherwise unharmed.

"He'll be fine," Lupin assured her as Ron began slapping Harry's face in an attempt to wake him up. By this time, the lights were on and the train was moving again.

"Harry!" Gwyn said, shaking him. "Harry! Are you all right?"

His eyes fluttered open at their attempts to wake him and he looked up at her shakily, raising his hand and wiping his face. She helped him into his seat, even though she wasn't at all steady herself. "Are you okay?" Gwyn asked frantically, her worry for him overriding her own personal wellbeing.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking around at them all.

Lupin broke open a piece of chocolate, passing them out and handing a large piece to Harry. "Here. It's all right, it's chocolate."

Harry took the chocolate, but didn't eat it, just looked at the place where that . . . creature had stood. "What happened?" he asked. "What was that . . . thing that came?"

"It was a dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban," Lupin explained. "It's gone now. It was searching the train for Sirius Black." Gwyn shivered slightly; if those things were guards at the prison, she could understand why people went mad there. "If you'll excuse me, I need to have a little word with the driver." He stood up and headed for the door, looking back at them all. "Eat," he encouraged them. "You'll feel better."

When he was gone, Harry looked at them again. "What happened to me?" he asked anxiously. Gwyn was sitting down next to him, not trusting herself to be able to support her own weight right now.

"Well, you sort of went rigid," Ron explained. "We thought you were having a fit or something."

"And did any of you . . . pass out?"

"Gwyn almost did," Hermione said, giving the blonde witch a concerned look. "She was . . ." She trailed off, not sure whether or not to say. "Well, you kept whimpering crying out, Gwyn. You kept saying, 'no' and 'too dark.'" Harry looked at Gwyn worriedly, but she only pushed herself into a tight ball, not saying anything.

"Did you scream, though?" he asked. "I heard screaming . . ."

Hermione glanced at him in alarm. "No one was screaming, Harry," she told him gently.

"It was horrible," Neville whimpered, his voice high. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt weird," Ron said quietly, shivering slightly. "Like I would never be cheerful again . . ."

No one spoke much as the sat in the compartment, continuing on to Hogwarts. Gwyn went with Hermione and Ginny later on to change into their school robes while the boys changed in the compartment. By the time that they pulled into the station, Gwyn had regained her composure, though Hermione said she was still pale.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Gwyn asked Harry as they disembarked the train and got into the carriages that would take them up to the school. He nodded, but she looked at him sceptically. "Really, Harry . . ."

"I'm okay," he assured her. "Just a bit unsteady . . ." She nodded in understanding; she didn't feel much better, particularly since they had to ride past a pair of dementors at the gate.

She wrapped an arm around his as they headed up towards the school. "The better that they're away from this place, the better I'll feel," she muttered darkly as Malfoy pushed his way through the crowd. Gwyn let go of Harry's arm, not wanting to give Malfoy any reason to tease them, but the Slytherin had his mind on other things.

"You _fainted_, Potter?" he asked gleefully. "Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually _fainted_?" His grey eyes were glinting in malice as he turned his attention towards Gwyn. "Did you faint, too, Swann? Did the scary, old dementor scare you as well?"

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron growled as Lupin stepped out of the carriage, looking at the group.

"Is there a problem?" he inquired. Malfoy's eyes swept his appearance before shaking his head and taking off towards the school.

Gwyn sighed, just wanting to get the feast over with so she could go to bed. The idea of the nice, four-post soft bed in Gryffindor Tower was almost too appealing . . .

They headed up to the school, but almost the second they passed into the Great Hall, a sharp voice shouted, "Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!" Gwyn looked around to see Professor McGonagall striding towards them. "No need to look so worried—I just want a word in my office. Move along there, Mr. Weasley, Miss Swann."

"Let's go," Gwyn muttered to Ron as they headed into the Great Hall and took their seats at the Gryffindor Table.

"What was that about?" he asked and she shrugged as the first-year students headed into the Great Hall and the Sorting began. Concern for her best friends made her pretty much ignore the Sorting until it was over and Harry and Hermione took their seats.

They had no time to explain what McGonagall had wanted as Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts and the only wizard the Voldemort had ever feared, stood up and began to make his welcoming speech.

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it is best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast." He cleared his throat as he looked at them all.

"As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.

"They are stationed at every entrance of the grounds and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises—or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added, causing the quartet to look at each other. On a number of occasions, they had snuck out of school past curfew underneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak that he'd inherited from his father, passed on to him by Dumbledore, who had it in his possession. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to be forgiving. I therefore warn each and every warn you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure no student runs afoul of the dementors.

"On a happier note," he added, "I am pleased to welcome to new teachers to our ranks this year. "First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." The applause was scattered, only those in their compartment clapping hard. "As to our second new appointment. Well, I am sorry to inform you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, has retired in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say his place will be filled by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid."

Gwyn cheered loud as the gamekeeper turned red, but welcomed the applause, his black eyes twinkling with pleasure and a wide grin already in place as he wiped his eyes on the tablecloth. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and most of the Gryffindor table were cheering as well.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore declared. "Let the feast begin!" The golden plates and goblets filled with food and drink.

It had not dawned on Gwyn how hungry she was until the food was placed before her and she dug into the food until they managed to get away to talk to Hagrid. Being a teacher meant everything to Hagrid, because he wasn't a fully qualified wizard. Due to circumstances beyond his control, he had been expelled and framed for a crime he did not commit, only cleared the previous year by Gwyn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed when Dumbledore dismissed them for bed and they headed up to the teachers' table. Hagrid was wiping his tearful face on his napkin as he looked at them.

"All down ter you three. Can' believe it . . . great man, Dumbledore . . . came down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough. . . . It's what I always wanted. . . ."

McGonagall shooed them away after that and they headed up to the Gryffindor tower, where there was a crowd of students waiting to get in. "Coming through, coming through!" Percy called from behind them. "The new password's 'Fortuna Major'!"

The door opened and they climbed inside of the common room. Gwyn and Hermione bid good night to the boys before climbing up the stairs and into the third-year girls' common room.

Gwyn collapsed onto her bed, where Tabby was on her pillow, and was asleep before she could even change into her nightgown.


	6. New Lessons

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Six: New Lessons

Whether it was because of the dementors or the visions that they had conjured or the fact that she was getting stronger in her seer powers, Gwyn didn't know. All she knew was that her dreams were filled with hazy images of events long past. She could see a woman whose face was in obscurity, her long blonde hair falling around her as she raced away from her. Much as Gwyn tried to get to the woman, something was holding her back, someone was keeping her from her.

She was abruptly ripped from her dreams when Hermione shook her awake. "Gwyn, come on, we're going to be late for breakfast and we still have to get our schedules for today." As usual, the genius of the quartet was excited and thrilled to be starting classes again. "I really hope that we're going to be starting new classes today."

"Okay, I'm up," Gwyn groaned, rubbing her hands over her eyes as she sat up, stroking Tabby as she crawled out of bed, moving over to her trunk and withdrawing one of her uniforms before heading into the bathroom. "I hope Hagrid doesn't bring any dangerous animals into class if we have Care of the Magical Creatures today."

"I'm sure that he wouldn't bring anything into class that would be considered dangerous," Hermione said, but she shared a dubious look with Gwyn as she returned from the bathroom; Hagrid didn't exactly have a normal person's view of what was considered dangerous. "Dumbledore wouldn't have given him the job if he didn't think that Hagrid could be trusted with it. Now come on, we've got to get the boys. I'll be surprised if Ron is even out of bed yet," she added, rolling her eyes as they headed down the stairs.

"What do you take me for, Hermione?" Ron said in annoyance as the boys headed towards them. Harry shook his head as their friends headed out of the common room, bickering all the way, before looking at Gwyn.

"When are they ever going to get along?" he sighed as they fell into step beside each other, trailing Ron and Hermione's heated argument. Gwyn smiled as she looked sideways at her best friend.

"I suppose when Hermione decides that the time is right," she answered, shrugging. "Girls are always much faster with that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?"

Gwyn giggled, but dropped her voice so that neither Ron or Hermione would hear her. "Romance," she answered, a twinkle in her eyes. Harry looked around at her in surprise.

"Ron and Hermione? I didn't see that one coming," he commented with a chuckle. Gwyn only smiled.

"No, you wouldn't," she teased. Harry made a face at her as they headed into the Great Hall, where Malfoy was currently holding court. The moment that they passed, however, he pretended to faint, causing the Slytherins in range to burst out laughing.

"Ignore him," Hermione whispered as she saw Harry's expression. "Just ignore him, Harry, it's not worth it." Gwyn pushed Harry ahead of her until they reached Fred and George at the table.

"Here's the new third-year course schedules," George said, passing them out to each off them. Gwyn took hers gratefully, thankful for an excuse to do something other than listen to Malfoy, scanning it carefully. "What's up with you, Harry?"

"Malfoy," Harry said grimly and the twins looked towards the Slytherin table just in time to see Malfoy doing another swooning impression. Gwyn shook her head, noting that her cousin was sitting close to Malfoy, her haughty expression flickering towards Gwyn momentarily. Morgause's eyes lingered on her for a moment before returning her attention to Malfoy.

Shaking her head, Gwyn returned her attention to her course schedule before looking over at Harry's. "Looks like I'll be ditching you during the first classes," she observed. "I'll be in Arthimancy."

"Me, too," Hermione squealed happily. "I can't wait, the subject sounds so fascinating."

"Hermione, how are you supposed to take ten classes a day?" Gwyn inquired as she took hold of Hermione's schedule and looking down at it. "And have Arthimancy, Muggle Studies, and Divination all at the same time?"

"No kidding, Hermione," Ron said with a laugh as she handed the schedule back to its owner. "I mean, I know you're good, but no one's that good. How are you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said reasonably. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once." Gwyn exchanged a curious look with Harry and Ron, who both looked mystified. "I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall, don't worry about it."

Gwyn glanced at the other two, but shrugged. "Okay," she said, shaking her head. "But just promise me that if it gets to be too much, you'll at least consider dropping a class? Please, Hermione," she added, seeing Hermione's shocked expression. "Just so I don't have to worry about you losing your sanity this year."

Hermione smiled. "I promise," she assured the blonde witch as Hagrid entered the Great Hall and paused at the Gryffindor table.

"All righ'?" he asked, looking happy and eager. "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready. . . . Hope it's okay. . . . Me, a teacher . . . hones'ly. . . ."

"You're going to do brilliantly, Hagrid," Gwyn said with a grin at him. He ruffled her hair affectionately, although this nearly sent her crashing into the table, before continuing his journey to the staff table. "What's he been getting ready, do you think?" she asked her friends.

"Hopefully nothing too dangerous," Ron said with a hint of anxiety in his voice before looking down at his schedule. "We'd better go, look. Divination's at the top of North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there. . . ."

"I'll see you guys in Transfiguration, then," Gwyn said, getting up to head to Arthimancy. "Have fun."

"Good luck in Arthimancy," Harry said as he headed off with Ron and Hermione and Gwyn waved goodbye to them before picking up her bag and looked at the twins. "See you two later," she said, heading out of the Great Hall and moving towards where Arthimancy was to take place.

They weren't the first ones to arrive when they got there. There were quite a few Ravenclaws already filled in the room, as well two other Gryffindor girls, Moira Turner and Margaret Tyler.

"So how exactly are you going to be taking ten classes a day?" Gwyn asked Hermione as they sat down at one of the desks. Her friend only smiled, not saying anything. "Hermione, nobody is crazy enough to do ten classes a day. Even _you_ can't handle that much homework."

"I'll handle it," Hermione said reassuringly. "I told you that I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"Uh-huh." Gwyn shook her head as she glanced at her, dubious, but let the matter slide. If Hermione wanted to make herself go crazy because she wanted to take too many classes, that was her business. "So who's the professor for Arthimancy, anyway? Professor Vector, wasn't it? Wonder what she's like . . ."

"I think that's her," Hermione said, nodding to the short, slim witch who had just entered the room. She had a gentle manner that gave off and calming aura, but she had a hint of firmness to her. Her brunette hair was trimmed around her shoulders and her eyes were soft and brown.

"Welcome to Arthimancy," she said with a smile at them. "I am Professor Vector and I trust that no one is going to be fooling around this term. Now, as this is your first class, I'd like to start by explaining a bit about Arthimancy and what we're going to be learning this term. Unlike Divination, Arthimancy is reading the future by what many refer to numerology. It's been used for thousands of years as far back as the ancient Greeks to calculate people's future paths and to predict when something might very well occur. Which we will get into later in the semester, but for now," she added, "why don't we try a little practice?" She waved her wand at the chalkboard, where a numerology chart appeared.

123456789

ABCDEFGHI

JKLMNOPQR

STUVWXYZ

"As you can see here," Vector explained, gesturing towards the chart. "Each letter of the alphabet is assigned a numerical value between one and nine. A, J, and S each have the value of 1. B, K, and T have the value of two and so on. To analyse a person's name, you simply write it down and beneath each letter, enter the corresponding numerical value. So everybody take out a piece of parchment write down their full name down and the numerical value."

Pulling out a piece of paper, Gwyn retrieved her quill, dipping it into the inkwell before scribbling her name on the paper before consulting the chart on the board for the numerical board.

G u i n e v e r e A u r o r a S w a n n

7 3 9 5 5 4 5 9 5 1 3 9 6 9 1 1 5 1 5 5

"The character number is the personality of an individual," Vector explained. "To calculate this, you simply add up all of the numbers. As I'm sure will happen with most of you, if not all, you will get a two-digit number. It must be reduced to a single digit. Say you have 58," she explained. "You would reduce it by adding 5 and 8 together, which reduces it to 13. Then you would add 1 and 3 together, which would be four. Therefore, four would be your character number. Let's see what you get."

It seemed more like a math class than a magical class to Gwyn, but she calculated the numbers together, ending up with 98, which was reduced to 17, which in turn was reduced to 8.

"When you're finished calculating your character number, turn to page 29 in _Numerology and Grammatica_ to read up on your character number," Vector explained and Gwyn turned in her book to read what her character number said about her.

"What did you get?" Hermione asked, looking at her. She was already enjoying herself, Gwyn noticed.

"Eight," Gwyn answered, looking down at the page. "Great in business, finance, and politics . . . practical, ambitious, committed, and hardworking. It's a dead ringer for you, Hermione. What's yours?"

"Seven," Hermione answered. "Perceptive, understand, bright . . . enjoy hard work and challenges. Often serious, scholarly, interested in all things mysterious. And what are you talking about? You're practical, level-headed when things get rough. Not to mention, you are dedicated to putting in extra hours when we need a mystery solved." Gwyn considered this; it was true. How many hours did she spend in the library try to find out what was in the Chamber last year or finding out who Flamel was?

"Is anyone not finished?" Vector asked. "Good, then we'll move on to the Heart number. While the character number was to see a person's personality type, the heart number is used to see a person inner life and to indicated desires and fears hidden from others. In order to calculate this, you use the same method as the character number, only you just add the vowels. A, E, I, O, and U."

"What about Y?" Margaret Tyler asked.

"It's used as a consonant in this case," Vector answered. "But a good point to bring up."

Underneath her paper, Gwyn did the calculations, which added up to 39, then to 12, which reduced to 3. "Three," she muttered. "Talent, energy, artistic nature, humour, social ease." She looked over at Hermione's parchment. "How about you?"

"One," Hermione replied as she scanned down the list. "Independent, focused, single-minded and determined. Leaders and inventors, self-centred, egotistical, and domineering." She looked up at Gwyn with incredulity. "Am I domineering?" she asked.

Gwyn paused. "A little bit," she acknowledged. "What do you think about mine?"

"Well, you're definitely talented," Hermione agreed. "Even I can beat you at Charms class. I'm not so sure about social ease, but artistic nature?"

"Hermione, I'm no artist, you're thinking about Dean."

"I just meant that artistic means the imaginative one, resourceful. You look at things from every angle. Remember when we went after the Sorcerer's Stone, you volunteered to stay behind in case You-Know-Who did get through. You looked ahead at what _could_ have happened."

Gwyn nodded, frowning at the parchment as they moved on to the social number, which was a person's outer personality. Just as the heart and character numbers, they added up the number, but used just the consonants. Ending up with 59, Gwyn reduced it to 14 and then to 5.

"Instability and imbalance, change and uncertainty," Gwyn read from the book. Adventurous, willing to take risks, can't stay in one place too long." She looked at Hermione. "Okay, this is a little creepy, because how many adventures have we been on the past two years?"

"Too many," Hermione said, laughing. "I got six. Harmony, friendship, family life. Loyal, reliable, loving. Adapt easily."

Before Gwyn could say anything, the bell rang, dismissing them to their next classes and Hermione reluctantly closed up her books and the girls headed towards Transfiguration, still discussing their Arthimancy class when they bumped into Harry and Ron, who looked startled at seeing them.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Well, you see, Ron, when a man and a woman fall in love," Gwyn said seriously, causing Harry to laugh, but Ron only scowled at her, looking at Hermione curiously.

"You were right behind us and then you just disappeared!" he said, sounding confused.

"I was right here the entire time," Hermione said breezily, walking past them. "Come on, let's get to Transfiguration, we're going to be late. And stop worrying, Harry," she added. "It doesn't mean anything."

Gwyn frowned at Hermione, but then looked at Harry. "What is she talking about?" she asked, noticing how anxious he looked. "What's wrong?"

"Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher," Harry explained on the way to Transfiguration. "We were doing tea leaves, trying to see what patterns were in the leaves. And she saw what she called the Grim in mine."

"The Grim?" Gwyn repeated. The term sounded familiar.

"It's an omen of death," Ron explained, looking over at them.

"Of death," Gwyn echoed. "So basically it's the wizard equivalent of the Angel of Death?"

"Oh, honestly, Gwyn, how many people have actually seen the Angel of Death?" Hermione scoffed. "If you ask me, that class was absolutely rubbish compared to Arthimancy. 'Broaden your minds'," she said mockingly. "'Use your inner eye to see the future'!" Hermione shook her head as they reached Transfiguration, but Ron frowned at her, looking at her and Harry.

"What's she talking about?" he asked. "She hasn't been to an Arthimancy class yet."

"Yes, she has," Gwyn said in bewilderment. "She was just in the last class with me. We were doing numerology calculations."

"But she's been in Divination the last class with us," Harry said, frowning. "She couldn't have been in both classes, not at once . . ."

Gwyn, Harry, and Ron all looked at each other, none of them coming up with an explanation as Hermione reappeared at the Transfiguration door. "Aren't you coming?" she asked.

"Hermione, how exactly were you in Divination and Arthimancy at the same time?" Ron asked slowly. "You'd have to be in two places at once."

"Oh, honestly, Ronald, how could anybody be in two places at once?" Hermione asked impatiently. "Come on, let's go."

Dropping the subject for the moment, Gwyn led Harry and Ron into the classroom and taking seats in the back of the room, noting how everyone was sending furtive looks towards the quartet as Transfiguration started, as well as how Harry was distracted, more than usual.

"What's gotten into all of you today?" McGonagall asked when she had finished transforming herself into a tabby cat and back. Gwyn hadn't been paying attention, probably not the best idea. "Not that it matters, but that's the first tie that my transformation's not gotten applause from a class."

Hermione was the first to explain. "Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class and we were reading tea leaves and—"

"Of course," McGonagall said, frowning. "No need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Gwyn raised her head towards the Transfiguration professor, incredulous. How could she have possibly known when Gwyn herself had only found out a few moments before?

"Me," Harry answered.

"I see." McGonagall looked at Harry pointedly. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyl Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them have died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. If it weren't for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues—" She stopped herself just in time and continued, more calmly. "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have little patience with it. True Seers are very rare and Professor Trelawney."

Gwyn shifted uncomfortably, not particularly at ease at discussing seers in general. While Trelawney might not be a seer, she definitely was and she didn't want the general public to know. Apart from her friends, Dumbledore and Madeline were the only ones who knew.

"You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure that if you die, you need not hand it in." Gwyn giggled, not used to hearing McGonagall joke and Hermione laughed. Harry, too, looked amused and not as worried as he had a moment before, but Ron look worried, as did various of their fellow classmates.

"Ron, cheer up," Hermione said after class as they headed into the Great Hall for lunch. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said." Gwyn silently ate her stew, not wanting to get involved if it was going to brew another one of their endless fights.

"Harry, you haven't seen a great, black dog anywhere, have you?" Ron asked, ignoring Hermione.

"Yeah, I have," Harry answered, shrugging. "I saw one the night I left the Dursleys."

"It was probably just a stray," Gwyn said reasonably. "Ron, there's plenty of big, black dogs that are not the Angel of Death. It doesn't mean anything. It just one of the superstitions that gets blown out of proportion."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron protested. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards! My uncle Bilius saw one and he died twenty-four hours later."

"Coincidence," Hermione said airily. "And if they scare the daylights out of wizards, then there you have it. They see the Grim and die of fright. It's not an omen, it's the cause of death. Harry's only still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better kick the bucket then!"

Gwyn shook her head, looking at Harry. "Got any plans after Care of the Magical Creatures, unless you've got endless amounts of homework?" she asked. Harry shook his head.

"Not particularly, why?"

"Because Madeline gave me a broomstick for my birthday and I thought about going and breaking it in, unless you'd rather—"

"Count me in," Harry said, grinning. Flying was his favourite part about the wizarding world.

"Good," Gwyn said, returning to her lunch. "It's settled, then."

--

Ron and Hermione's argument about the Grim continued all the way through lunch and on the way down to the grounds as they headed towards Care of the Magical Creatures. After trying vainly to stop the argument, Gwyn finally just gave up and walked ahead of them with Harry.

"Great, looks like we're learning with Slytherins," she grumbled, spotting the herd of silver and green students ahead. Harry grimaced as his hand touched hers ever so briefly. Gwyn looked at him quickly before pulling hers away, her heart racing as they joined their class.

Hagrid was already waiting for them as they arrived, his expression eager and excited. "C'mon now, get a move on! Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everybody here? Right, follow me!" He motioned the class to follow him and they were led to an empty paddock. "Everyone gather 'round the fence here! That's it—make sure yeh can see—now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open ter books—"

"How?" Malfoy asked in a bored tone. Hagrid looked at him in confusion. "How do we open our books?"

Even though Gwyn hated to admit it, even to herself, he had a point. The _Monster Book of Monsters_ required had attacked her when she had bought it and she had finally resorted to borrowing some Spellotape from Tom at the Leaky Cauldron and binding it shut.

"Hasn'—hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" Hagrid looked dejected as everyone shook their heads. "Yeh've got ter _stroke_ them. Look—"

Taking Hermione's book, he ripped the Spellotape. When the book attempted to attack him, he ran a finger down the spine. It shivered slightly before falling quietly into Hagrid's large hands. "Wow, that's pretty cool," Gwyn said, impressed. Apparently, she was the only one who thought so, because she was suddenly surrounded by incredulous, jeering looks. She shifted uncomfortably, moving back to her friends as she quietly stroked the spine, making her book stop attacking.

"Thank you, Gwyn," Hagrid said, unaware of anything. "So yeh've got yer books an' now yeh need the Magic Creatures. Hold on right here and I'll get 'em." He walked away, leaving the students by themselves.

Not a second had passed and Malfoy started opening his mouth. "God, this place is going to the dogs. That oaf teaching classes, my father will have a fit when I tell him—"

"I hope it's a funny aneurism," Gwyn countered, causing a few of the Gryffindors to laugh and even some of the Slytherins were having trouble keeping a straight face.

"Why don't you go back home to your mummy, Swann? Oh, I forget," he added with a cruel smile. "You don't have one."

Harry started forward. "Shut up, Malfoy," he said angrily, coming to Gwyn's defence. Malfoy's grin widened and he moved forward, about to start the fight when his eyes widened at something behind them.

"Dementor! Dementor!" he screamed, causing the Gryffindors to look around, half-alarmed, only to discover there was nothing there.

"Come on, Harry, just let it go," Gwyn said quietly, pulling Harry back away from Malfoy.

"Yeah, that's right, Potter, just listen to your girlfriend," Malfoy taunted just as Lavender Brown squealed, pointing at something on the other side of the paddock. Gwyn turned to look at what she was pointing at and literally jumped backwards when she saw the creature standing there.

It looked like a cross between a horse and an eagle. The body, tail, and back legs were like what Gwyn had seen on horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads were that of an eagle.

"Hagrid!" Ron exclaimed as they got over the shock of seeing the bizarre creature. "What exactly is that?"

"That, Ron, is a Hippogriff," Hagrid explained. "Everyone, say hello to Buckbeak. Isn't he beautiful?"

Gwyn peered closer at Buckbeak, a bit unnerved by him, but there was a certain beauty to him, the way that his coat shimmered and shone in the sun, changing colours.

"Now," Hagrid continued the lesson, "the firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is that they're very proud creatures. They're easily offended. Yeh do not want to insult a hippogriff. It just might be the las' thing that yeh ever do."

The hint of soft whispering caught Gwyn's attention and she noticed Malfoy and his cronies talking in quiet voices, not paying any attention. Judging from the look on Malfoy's face, she guessed that he was going to try his very best to ruin Hagrid's chance at teaching by causing trouble.

Catching Hagrid's eyes, she gave him a pointed look before directing her attention to Malfoy. Hagrid caught the hint. "Eh, you three!" he barked, causing them to return their attention to him. "Better pay attention, 'cause this next stuff is important."

Malfoy scowled, but returned his attention to Hagrid as the lesson continued. "Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move. It's polite, see? Yeh walk towards him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right—who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed up, not wanting to get any closer. Harry was the only one who stood where he was, so he was the one who moved forward to bow to Buckbeak. Gwyn gripped the fence tightly, one hand tugging on a strand of her blonde hair due to nervousness.

Harry hesitantly moved forward, bowing before Buckbeak, following Hagrid's instructions until Buckbeak finally bowed his head. "Well done, Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed, thrilled as the class thundered its applause. "Right—yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Releasing the breath that she didn't realise she had been holding, Gwyn joined in the applause, but her apprehension heightened when Hagrid suggested that Harry ride him.

Hippogriff and rider took to the sky. Gwyn shielded her eyes from the sun as the two flew through the sky, streaming through it with proficiency. Only when they finally landed and Harry was on the ground did Gwyn feel the tension lift from her shoulders.

"Oh, please," Malfoy complained, moving forward before anybody could stop him. "You're not dangerous at all, you great ugly brute?"

"Malfoy—" Hagrid began as Buckbeak reared up, striking at Malfoy, who let out a scream as he fell. That was all it took for screams to come from the watching Slytherin girls.

"I'm dying!" Malfoy howled. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'! Someone help me—gotta get him outta here—"

As Hagrid scooped Malfoy up and carried him up to the hospital wing, Gwyn said the ugly, serious gasp on his arm. Her stomach churned as she saw the blood and she turned her head, feeling nauseous as the class was dismissed and they headed their separate ways.

"D'you think he'll be all right?" Hermione asked, nervously.

"'Course he will. Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second," Harry said reassuringly.

"It's not whether or not she can fix it that I'm worried about," Gwyn said anxiously. "It's how much of a fuss Malfoy and his father are going to put up."

"You think he's going to lay it on pretty thick?" Ron asked. Gwyn nodded, biting her lip fretfully. "That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, though, wasn't it? Trust Malfoy to mess things up for him."

When Hagrid wasn't at dinner, the quartet decided to go down and visit him, to see how things had gone. By the time they had arrived, Hagrid was already half-drunk. He had trouble recognising them when they came in.

"You haven't been fired, have you, Hagrid?" Gwyn asked as she moved the tankard away from their friend and setting it away from him before they sat down at the table.

"Not yet," Hagrid admitted, his tone less than hopeful. "But 's only a matter o' time, i'n't it, after Malfoy . . ."

"He couldn't have hurt his arm that badly," Gwyn muttered.

"How is he?" Ron asked, looking at the gamekeeper worriedly. "It wasn't serious, was it?"

Hagrid shrugged. "Madam Pomfrey fixed him as best she could," he replied, downcast. "But he's sayin' it's still agony . . . covered in bandages . . . moaning . . ." Gwyn shook her head in disgust, revolted by the act that Malfoy was putting on just because he wanted to get Hagrid fired.

"School gov'nors have bin told, o' course. They recon I started too big. Shoulda left hippogriffs fer later . . .done flobberworms or summat. . . . Jus' thought it'd make a good firs' lesson. . . 'S all my fault. . . ."

"It was Malfoy's fault," Hermione insisted.

"We're witnesses," Harry said firmly. "You did everything you were supposed to, told us not to insult them. Malfoy was the one who wasn't listening. We'll tell them what really happened."

"Yeah, Hagrid, we'll back you up," Ron agreed.

That was all it took for Hagrid to yank them into a tight hug, causing both of them to wince. Gwyn shook her head as Hermione picked up the tankard and headed outside to empty it. Less than a minute later, Hagrid followed her outside and doused his head into a water barrel.

When he came back, he looked better, his eyes focused a little better. "Tha's better. Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an' see me, I really—" He stopped talking and stared at Harry, going white.

"WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?" Gwyn jumped a mile, startled by his outburst. "YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRY! AN' YOU THREE! LETTING HIM!"

Before anyone could stop him, Hagrid stormed over to them and pushed them all outside. "C'mon! I'm taking yer all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again! I'm not worth that!"


	7. Potions and Fears

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Seven: Potions and Fears

Malfoy eventually turned up in halfway through Potions class with his arm bandaged and in a sling, getting special treatment from Snape because of his "injury." Gwyn had half a mind to give him a real injury or at least take up on her mother's idea and slip some voice-changing potion into his cup some evening during supper. The idea was almost too tempting to pass up.

Still, it wasn't worth the effort, since she would probably have to steal some ingredients from the Potions Master and she'd rather face a dragon without a wand than get caught stealing from Snape.

With a sigh, Gwyn returned to what she was doing and kept her attention on the Shrinking Solution that they were making, noticing that Malfoy was bullying Harry and Ron while they were forced to help him with his potion.

Stirring her own potion, Gwyn whisked it around in her cauldron as she added the dash of leech juice that was needed, turning it an acid green. Satisfied, she ladled some potion into a vial, scribbling her name on it so that she could turn it in just as Snape moved around the room, looking at various potions so he could criticise.

Unfortunately, right next to Hermione and Gwyn, Neville's potion was a mess. Instead of being the acid green that it was supposed to be, it had turned a bright orange.

Which gave Snape the perfect opportunity to attack Neville.

"Orange, Longbottom, orange," he said as he ladled some and dropped it back into the cauldron. "Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rate spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Hermione rushed to Neville's rescue before Neville started to cry, as he looked as though he were about to do. "Please, sir. I could help Neville put it right—"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger. Longbottom, at the end of this lesson, we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Gwyn actually glared at Snape in anger; it was bad enough that he had to bully Neville, but to threaten him with his beloved pet was another thing entirely. Once Snape had moved away, Gwyn gave Hermione a look and the two girls began to help Neville discreetly with the potion, giving him instructions underneath their breaths.

Hermione was better at Gwyn at potions, so Gwyn mostly kept an eye out for Snape, warning them when he was coming. But she could practically sense frustration pouring out from Harry and when she glanced over at the boys, she saw Malfoy's smug look and Harry's angry one.

"You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's. . . ."

"I think we're good," Gwyn said, casting a glance at Neville's—thankfully—green potion.

"Thanks," Neville whispered gratefully as they moved away from the potions to clean their equipment. Gwyn went straight to Harry and Ron, joining them at one of the stone basins, where they were cleaning their own ladles while talking quietly.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

"Malfoy's just running his mouth, is all," Ron said savagely. "Making stuff up to make Harry do something stupid." Gwyn raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry curiously.

"It's just some stuff about Black," Harry explained just as quietly. "He said something about how I should want revenge against him, that I should be out there looking for him."

"Why?" Gwyn asked, bewildered. "What's Black done to you?"

"Nothing that I know about," Harry answered, shaking his head as they cleaned up their stuff and moved around to join the rest of their class. Snape was holding Trevor, his black eyes glittering.

"Everyone gather round and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad," he said. "If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done something wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

Gwyn gripped Harry's hand tightly, her eyes on the potion as Snape ladled some into a spoon. He shot her a small, consoling smile, squeezing her hand back and she gently eased her grip on his hand.

Snape trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat, which he gulped and then with a pop, turned into a tadpole. Gwyn released a sigh of relief, releasing Harry's hand as she applauded with everybody else.

The Potions Master didn't look pleased as he retrieved a small bottle from his robes and tipped a few drops over Trevor and with another pop, the tadpole became a fully grown toad once again. "Five points from Gryffindor," he growled. The applause ceased. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Resisting the urge to curse Snape from behind his back, Gwyn gathered up her belongings and joined her friends out the door. All the way to the entrance hall, Ron was ranting about Snape's injustice.

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!"

"It wouldn't have mattered, Ron, Snape's not exactly know for his fairness," Gwyn pointed out. "Most likely, it would've given Snape a reason to take even more points away. Just let it go."

"Where is Hermione?" Ron asked, looking around. Gwyn and Harry stopped to look behind them, startled to discover that Hermione was no longer following them. "She was right behind us."

"She's been doing that a lot lately," Gwyn observed, frowning. It was like one minute Hermione was standing right next to them and the next, she had completely vanished.

"Tell me about it," Ron grumbled.

"There she is!" Harry said, pointing.

The bushy-haired witch was hurrying up the stairs. Gwyn noticed that she was tucking something underneath her robes as she hurried to rejoin them.

"Sorry about that," she said, almost too brightly. "I had to go back for something. Oh, no. . . ."

Hermione's bag had split down one of the ends, causing a few books to fall out. Gwyn went to help her, picking some of the books up as Ron shook his head at the dozen or so books crammed into the bag. "Why are you carrying all these around with you?"

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," Hermione reminded him as Harry joined the girls to help them. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?" She handed him a few of her books.

"But—but you haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Give it up, Ron," Gwyn sighed. If Hermione wanted to tell them how she was getting around her impossible schedule, then she would have told them by now.

"I hope there's something good for lunch," Hermione announced, changing the subject hastily. "I'm starving." Without another word, she headed towards the Great Hall, leaving Gwyn and the boys standing on the stairs, staring at her incredulously.

Ron looked at the other two. "Do you get the feeling that Hermione's not telling us something?"

"Like Gwyn said," Harry said, shrugging. "Give it up."

"If she is not telling us something, then it's for a good reason and we'll find that out if and when she decides to tell us," Gwyn told him as she led the boys towards the Great Hall. "So, what do you think Lupin's class is going to be like, anyway?"

--

Whatever Gwyn had been expecting from Lupin's class, it definitely wasn't what happened. Once the students had gathered in the Defence class, Lupin took them to the staffroom, where there was an old wardrobe, wobbling and bouncing off of the wall. Several students jumped back at the sound, giving it nervous looks.

"Nothing to worry about," Lupin assured them. "There's a boggart in there." Gwyn looked at the wardrobe in curiosity, not really knowing what this particular creature was, but from the way that people were regarding the wardrobe, she was probably the only curious person in the room. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gape between beds, the cupboards under sinks—I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. _This _one moved in yesterday afternoon and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what _is_ a boggart?"

"It's a shape-shifter," Hermione said, raising her hand. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us the most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Lupin said with a smile. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us fears. This means," he added as Neville gave a small moan of fear, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Gwyn looked at her best friend while Hermione jumped up and down next to them. Harry looked uncertain. "Uh . . . because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," Lupin agreed. Hermione looked disappointed as she lowered her hand. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake—tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening." A few people chuckled at the image. "The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is _laughter_. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please . . . _riddikulus!_" He spoke the incantation slowly and clearly.

"_Riddikulus!_" everyone said together.

"Good," Lupin praised. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville." As Neville hesitantly walked forward, the wardrobe shook again. He threw a terrified look at it. "Right, Neville, first things first: what would you say frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's mouth opened, but due to his fear, nothing came out. Gwyn winced sympathetically as the wardrobe shook again.

"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," Lupin said, not unkindly.

"Professor Snape," Neville said, though his voice was hardly even audible. Still, it caused a few people to chuckle and Lupin smiled good-naturedly.

"Yes, frightens all," he said. "Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?" he queried.

"Yes." Neville nodded, looking terrified. "But I don't want that boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," Lupin assured him. "I want you to picture her clothes. Only her clothes, very clearly, in your mind. We don't need to hear," he added as Neville began to speak. "As long as you see it, we'll see it. Now, when I open that wardrobe, here's what I want you to do." He walked over to whisper something in Neville's ear. "Can you do that?"

A smile twitched at the corner of Gwyn's mouth as she watched the wardrobe in anticipation.

"Wand at the ready," Lupin said as he flicked his own to unlock the wardrobe. Professor Snape walked out, his face already twisted in displeasure. "Think, Neville, think."

"_Riddikulus!_" Neville squeaked and a loud crack emerged, sending Snape into a long, green dressed with a vulture topped hat, carrying a red handbag.

Laughter exploded from the class as they each faced the boggart going on by one to face the boggart as it changed from Snape to a mummy, then to a banshee, a severed hand, a giant spider, until finally it came to a stop right next to Harry and Gwyn.

Just before it faced either of them, Lupin rushed forward. "Here!" he roared and it turned into a silvery orb. "_Riddikulus!_ Neville, finish him off!"

As the orb turned into a cockroach, Neville darted forward, with more confidence than Gwyn had ever seen him with, and then Snape was back. "_Riddikulus!_" he shouted, releasing a giant laugh as Snape was once again dressed in his grandmother's clothes before it exploded.

"Excellent!" Lupin said, sounded thrilled. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. . . . Let me see . . . five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart—ten for Neville because he did it twice . . . and five each to Harry and Hermione."

"But I didn't do anything," Harry protested.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class," Lupin reminded him. "Very well, everyone, excellent work. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarise it for me to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Gwyn silently left the classroom, her thoughts on what had just happened, why Lupin had stopped the boggart. For Harry, it was the obvious. If Gwyn didn't know Harry personally, she would say that his greatest fear would probably be Voldemort, but she did know him and knew how badly the dementors had affected him.

But why had Lupin stopped her from facing it?

And the greater question that Gwyn had pressing down on her heart was, what was her greatest fear? What did she fear most in the world?

Even Gwyn didn't know the answer to that.


	8. First Hogsmeade Trip

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Eight: First Hogsmeade Trip

Despite herself, Gwyn couldn't help but feel perturbed about the boggart lesson, but she managed to put it out of her mind until she had a chance to talk to Lupin about it. Fortunately, about a week after the lesson, she managed to catch him heading towards his office just before supper.

"Professor Lupin?" she asked, getting his attention.

"Gwyn, how are you?" Lupin asked, greeting her with a smile. "Why don't you come on in? I just have to check on the Red Cap that we'll be studying next week and then we can head to the Great Hall together."

"Sure." Gwyn followed him into the office, having only been it once before and that had been when Lockhart was the Defence teacher. "What are Red Caps?"

"They lurk wherever there's been bloodshed," Lupin explained. "Dungeons, battlefields, castles . . . you name it. They wait to bludgeon those who have gotten lost. Now . . ." He looked up from feeding the Red Cap, peering at her over his desk. "What's been troubling you?"

Now that she was finally confronting him about it, Gwyn lost her confidence. "Well . . . I guess it's sort of stupid, but . . . the day that we fought the boggart, why didn't you let me?"

"Why do you assume I was stopping you?"

Gwyn considered. "I guess I figured you would've told me to go forward instead of Harry," she admitted slowly. Lupin smiled and nodded, moving to his seat behind the desk, looking at her kindly. "I know why you didn't let him fight the boggart, but I was just trying to figure out why you wouldn't let me." Lupin sighed as he studied her.

"You remind me so much of your mother," he said after a long moment. Gwyn blinked in surprise. "I swear, I can almost see Aurora looking out from your eyes. She was so bright and kind and compassionate, but . . ." He paused. "Well, she always worried about what was to come. Getting the visions didn't help her either. Don't get me wrong, Gwyn, she was one of the strongest people I knew and she always tried to help people, but in the end, it was her undoing."

Gwyn looked down at her hands. "I wish I could have known her," she said longingly.

"She was the best Charms student in our year," Lupin said thoughtfully, "and quite the spellcaster. I heard from Professor Flitwick that you're quite the Charms student yourself." Gwyn smiled in pleasure. "And she was a good friend. But she had trouble facing her fears. I saw the same difficulty in you the first time that I saw you. If I offended you by feeling that you weren't ready to face it just yet, then I apologise."

"What did Mum fear the most?"

Lupin smiled. "That was her burden to bear, Gwyn. Now, tell me," he said, changing the subject. "What is it that you fear the most?" He looked at her intently, waiting.

Gwyn paused; she had thought about this since the boggart incident, trying to figure it out, but had come up with no solution. "I don't know, my dad?" she asked.

"I don't think that you're really afraid of him," Lupin said gently. "If you were afraid of him, then you wouldn't be here at Hogwarts. You would have been too afraid to stand up to him and fight for what you wanted. You would have led quite a different life. Perhaps a good one, but not the one that you were destined for."

Gwyn smiled faintly. "Yeah, you're probably right. I really don't know, I've been trying to figure it out, but . . ."

"I thought as much. Gwyn, as hard as it may seem, sometimes the mind needs to discover things for itself. Now," he added, clearing his throat, "boggarts turn up all the time at Hogwarts. The next time I find one, I will keep it locked up. In the meantime, I want you to think very carefully and try and figure out what your greatest fear is. And when you think that you're ready, I promise that I'll let you face your fears."

"Thanks, Professor."

"You're welcome. Now, I think that we'd better go up to the Great Hall. I daresay that your friends will be waiting for you." Lupin smiled as he led her out of the classroom, heading towards the Great Hall. The hallways were empty, as everyone was up at dinner.

"Professor, one more thing," she asked as they walked together. "Are you the same Remus Lupin that's in my mum's diary?" Lupin chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"The very same," he assured her. "Don't believe everything that you read, though. Aurora saw things from her point of view."

"Everybody sees things in their own point," Gwyn pointed out. Lupin smiled ruefully and patted her on the shoulder.

"So very much like Aurora," he said with a hint of sadness in his voice as he headed up towards the teachers' table while Gwyn headed towards the Gryffindor one, her thoughts on what had just occurred and making a mental note to read again in her mother's diary that night.

"Where have you been?" Ron asked as she joined them. Gwyn shrugged as she stole a glance at Harry and Hermione.

"Just talking with Lupin. He had some interesting stories about my mum," she explained with a shrug. Ron looked sceptical, but didn't pursue the subject. Hermione was engrossed in her Arthimancy book, but Harry shot her a curious look and she shook her head, telling him to wait until later.

--

Slowly but surely, September slipped away like a breeze, bringing forth October. Lessons, as usual, were getting more and more interesting, especially Defence Against the Dark Arts. Of course, with two professors that barely knew what they were talking about—plus one of them being possessed by Voldemort—Gwyn was pleasantly surprised that Lupin's lessons were getting more and more interesting. It was a nice change, having a professor who actually knew what they were doing.

In addition to lessons, Gwyn had to put up with Ron and Hermione having declared war on each other in defence of their pets. Crookshanks kept trying to attack Scabbers, upsetting Ron greatly, but Hermione would hear none of it, refusing to hear a word against her pet.

But what kept her up at night was trying to figure out what her greatest fear was. Most of her classmates' fears had been a thing or an object, but she couldn't think of anything that remotely frightened her anymore.

No, she was leaning towards an event. Something happening that she was truly afraid of. Gwyn could honestly say that she was more afraid of losing the people around her than she was of even Voldemort. And the more that she grasped at that concept, the more she felt that she was scraping at the surface of her greatest fear.

However, at the very beginning of October, something happened that took Gwyn's mind off of her fears completely. While Harry was at Quidditch practice, Professor McGonagall came in and pinned up a notice on the bulletin board, announcing the first Hogsmeade weekend on Halloween.

As much as Gwyn wanted to go, she doubted that it was going to be any fun without her best friend. Harry had even gone so far as to ask McGonagall for permission to go, but she had put her foot down.

"I don't have to go," she said that morning when they were in the common room. Gwyn couldn't stand to see the depressed look on Harry's face. He glanced up at her, confused. "Hogsmeade. It really doesn't matter to me that much. I'm gonna stay here."

"Gwyn, you want to go," Harry protested, shaking his head. "Really, don't stay behind on my account, I'll be fine. Go and have fun. I need to get some potions homework done anyway."

"Harry . . ."

"I'm serious," he said firmly, turning to look at her directly, green eyes meeting blue. "Go with Ron and Hermione. I'll be okay. You're going to regret it if you don't go."

As much as Gwyn hated to admit it, he was probably right. "Well, if you're sure . . ." she said doubtfully.

"I'm sure," he assured her, smiling at her. Gwyn felt her insides twist just as the sight of it. She really did love it when he smiled like that. "I'll be okay. Besides, if you don't go, who's going to make sure that Ron and Hermione get back in one piece?" he added, causing Gwyn to laugh.

"Oh, all right," she reluctantly gave in. "But don't stay inside and do homework all day. Go flying or something. Have some fun," she insisted and Harry smiled faintly.

"I will," he promised.

So in the end, Gwyn waved goodbye to Harry as he stood by the entrance, looking forlorn as he watched them go, heading with Ron and Hermione into the village of Hogsmeade.

It was like Diagon Alley, except there were many cottages mixed in with the shops and stores. Gwyn trailed with Ron and Hermione through the many shops and businesses in Hogsmeade, buying various sweets in Honeydukes sweetshop and a couple knickknacks at other stores for Harry. Eventually, she let herself enjoy herself, but couldn't stop thinking about her best friend, sitting up at Hogwarts by himself.

"Look, there's Three Broomsticks," Hermione said, pointing. "Let's go inside and get something to drink. I'm dying of thirst."

"Sounds good to me," Gwyn agreed. She, too, was thirsty after all the walking around that they'd been doing. The three walked into the pub and got three butterbeers before getting a seat in the corner.

"Are you all right, Gwyn?" Hermione asked her, peering at the blonde witch over the tankard. "You've been quiet . . . more so than usual," she added with a hint of teasing.

"I'm just worried about Harry," Gwyn said with a shrug. "It's not fair for him to stay up at the school when everyone else is out here having a good time. I swear, if I thought I could sneak him out of the castle without anybody knowing about it, I would."

"Count me in," Ron volunteered while Hermione pierced her lips together disapprovingly at the thought of them breaking rules. "If you ask me, it's a load of rubbish, not letting him come. It's not like McGonagall and the others don't know what that uncle of his is like. Besides, would Black attack him with everybody watching?"

"Yes," Hermione said irritably. "Black slaughtered a bunch of innocent people in the street, Ronald, do you really think he would stop just because there's a bunch of people—especially underage wizards—with him?"

"She's got a point," Gwyn sighed. "Much as I hate to admit it, she's got a point." She sighed. "Why does everything happen to Harry?"

"Who knows?" Ron shrugged as he downed the last of his tankard. "Where to next?"

When they finally got up to the castle, it was near dusk and were carrying three bags of stuff for Harry. Gwyn helped him lay it all out on his bed as they joined him up in the boys' dormitory. Harry looked stunned at the amount of stuff they'd brought back.

"Thanks," Harry said, thrilled as he picked up a pack of Pepper Imps. "What's Hogsmeade like? Where'd you go?"

Ron and Hermione launched into telling him about the village and the various shops. Gwyn put in an occasional opinion and input, but let them tell him about it.

When Ron paused, Gwyn finally changed the subject, noticing the longing look written on Harry's face. "So what did you do while we were gone?" she asked. "You didn't spend all day doing your homework, did you?" She gave him a serious look and he cracked a grin at her, shaking his head.

"No," he told her before looking at the other two. "Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office and then Snape came in with this goblet. It was smoking and Lupin drank it. Said that he was feeling off-colour and that it was the only thing that helped."

"Lupin drank it?" Ron exclaimed, looking incredulous. "Is he mad?"

"I doubt it, he seems sane enough," Gwyn pointed out as Hermione checked the time.

"We'd better get going. The feast's going to be starting in a few minutes," she reminded them. As they headed through the castle, they continued discussing Snape and the goblet. "And anyway, if he _was_ trying to poison Lupin, he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, looking doubtful.

"Come on, guys," Gwyn said reasonably. "We've suspected Snape of foul play before, remember? Well, except me," she added seriously. "I thought he was innocent then. But the point is, that we were wrong then and we're probably wrong now. Nobody's stupid enough to commit a murder right under Dumbledore's nose," she said firmly as they entered the Great Hall.

As usual on Halloween, it was decorated splendidly with hundreds upon hundreds of candles residing with a jack-o-lantern, live bats fluttering everywhere, and orange streamers that were blowing in the breeze against the stormy overcast ceiling.

Gwyn happily ate through second helpings, even though she and most of the third-year students were filled with Honeydukes sweets, hardly noticing that she was about to burst as she laughed with her friends at the Hogwarts ghosts' entertainment.

It was only when they reached the Gryffindor Tower after the feast that her good mood was spoiled and her doubts about Sirius Black's innocence vanished. As they reached the corridor, it was jammed with students, all of whom were trying to peer over everybody to see what was happening.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Probably Neville's forgotten the password again," Ron said with Neville standing next to them.

"Hey!"

"Oh, you're there," Ron said, causing Gwyn to punch him on the shoulder and giving him a warning look before returning her attention to what was happening. Percy was moving through the crowd, shouting at everybody to let him through.

"Keep back, all of you," Percy ordered, his voice grave. "Nobody's to enter this dormitory until it's been fully searched. And someone get Professor Dumbledore. Quickly," he added.

Almost a minute later, Dumbledore arrived on the scene, sweeping through the crowd and as students moved to let him through, the quartet moved to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, god," Gwyn whispered as her eyes fell on the portrait in front of their dormitory. Strips of canvas were torn from the portrait, lying on the floor, and pieces of the portrait had been torn away completely.

Gwyn instinctively reached for Harry's hand, who squeezed it back as he stared at the scene, stunned. Dumbledore was inspecting the damage as McGonagall, Snape, and Lupin arrived and he turned to look at them. "We need to find her. Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every portrait in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" Gwyn looked around for the source of the voice, her blue eyes falling on Peeves as he floated above them, looking delighted at the anxiety and worry of the crowd.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore asked. Instantly, Peeves' attitude went from delight to . . . well, perhaps not respect, but at least consideration.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful. Poor thing," he said, shaking his head in mock sympathy.

"Did she saw who did it?"

"Oh, yes, Professorhead." Peeves perked up at the question, a nasty grin on his face. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see. Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Gwyn's heart clenched in her chest at the sound of the name and she gripped Harry's hand tighter as the dark-haired wizard went slightly pale.

And suddenly, Gwyn began to think that maybe she was wrong about Black after all.

Maybe Madeline and everyone else were right about him from the start.


	9. Her Greatest Fear

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Nine: Her Greatest Fear

Gwyn walked to the Great Hall with the other Gryffindors mutely, lost in her own thoughts. Finding out that everyone was right and that the boy in her mother's diary actually was a murderer and a lunatic and everything else that they said was . . . it was crushing. Around her, she could hear people whispering theories on what had just happened, but she didn't hear them, barely paying attention.

She stayed near her friends, all of whom were looking at her anxiously, as the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins joined them, but it was clear that none of them had any idea what was going on. Dumbledore joined them a few moments later while the Great Hall was being locked up by Professors Flitwick and McGonagall.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Dumbledore explained to the curious students. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately." He looked at Percy, who nodded superiorly. "Send word with one of the ghosts." Turning, Dumbledore headed towards the exit before looking back at them. "Oh, yes, you'll be needing. . . ."

He waved his wand and the tables moved to the walls, standing up on themselves. Another flick and hundreds upon hundreds of purple sleeping bags appeared on the floor. "Sleep well," Dumbledore told them before closing the door behind them. Gwyn heard it lock behind him and she exchanged a look with her friends.

"What happened?"

"What's going on?"

These questions and similar were all echoing around the hall by the other students and the Gryffindors immediately explained what was happening. Gwyn exchanged a look with Harry, Ron, and Hermione before grabbing sleeping bags and heading over to the corner just as Percy shouted for everyone to settle down and get into their sleeping bags.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione looked anxious and alarmed.

"Obviously, Dumbledore thinks he might be," Ron pointed out as everyone started getting into their own sleeping bags.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," Hermione said as they slid into the sleeping bags. "The one night that we weren't in the tower. . . ."

"I reckon he's lost track of the time, being on the run," Ron said wisely. "Didn't realise that it was Halloween. Otherwise, he would've come bursting in here."

Gwyn felt Harry shift next to her and looked towards her best friend, who was lying on his back and staring up at the starry night sky above them. Silently, she pulled her hand out of her sleeping bag, laying it palm up between them. After a moment, Harry reached over and took her hand, lacing their fingers together.

Meanwhile, the students around them were all whispering to one another, all voicing speculations on how Black had managed to achieve what was said to be impossible; entering Hogwarts Castle with dementors posted at every entrance.

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," a Ravenclaw offered from a few feet away. "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, most likely," a Hufflepuff suggested.

"He could have flown in," Dean Thomas added.

Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance as she looked at the other three. "Honestly," she grumbled, "am I the only person who's ever bothered to read _Hogwarts, A History_?"

"Probably," Ron answered as Gwyn managed a small smile and Harry cracked a grin. "Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than _walls_, you know," Hermione said impatiently. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered. . . ."

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no talking!" Gwyn shivered slightly as the lights went out, casting an eerie glow across the hall coming from the ghosts.

Feeling a squeeze to her hand, Gwyn looked sideways at Harry, who looked at her worriedly. "You okay?"

Gwyn sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know, Harry. It's just . . . there's some stuff in my mother's diary about Black. The way that she described him, the way that she portrayed his personality . . . it's like she was talking about a completely different person. I guess that I just let myself think that Ministry made a mistake a little."

Harry frowned and lifted himself up, laying his head on his arm to look at her more carefully. "Well, your instincts are never wrong. Usually, they're right on target . . ."

"Yeah, but this? How can they be right when he's certainly not _acting_ like an innocent man?" Gwyn shook her head, close to tears. "Harry, if I was right, then why the attack tonight? Even se—even people like me can be wrong every once in awhile."

"Gwyn—" Harry broke off and shook his head. "Maybe you're right and this time you're wrong. But I know you and you've got good instincts, even in the face of danger."

There was nothing that Gwyn could say to contradict him. Instead, she just squeezed tighter and snuggled tighter into her sleeping bag. Harry let the topic drop and lay back down, but neither one of them let go as they stared up at the starry ceiling above them. Even though Ron and Hermione were quiet, Gwyn knew that they had heard everything.

How long they lay there, just staying still and quiet, Gwyn didn't know, but eventually Dumbledore came back. Gwyn closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep as Percy walked by them to talk to Dumbledore in low voices.

"Any sign of him, Professor?"

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good," Dumbledore said. They were both keeping their voices low so not to wake any of the other students. "There's no point in moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently, she refused to let Black in without a password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."

"Headmaster?" Snape had joined them. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?" Dumbledore questioned.

"All searched."

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?"

"Many. Each of them as unlikely as the next."

Gwyn opened her eyes to see Harry's eyes open as well; he was listening to the conversation as well. And if she knew Ron and Hermione, then she'd say that they were both lying awake, listening as well.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before—ah—the start of term?"

"I do, Severus," Dumbledore answered, but Gwyn noted immediately the caution that was apparent in his voice. Whatever they were talking about, it was clear that it was not a topic Dumbledore wanted to continue.

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter," Dumbledore said sharply. "I must go down to the dementors," he added when Snape didn't answer. "I told them I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" Percy inquired.

"Oh, yes," Dumbledore answered and Gwyn involuntarily shivered at the cold tone in his voice. "But I'm afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster."

Hearing Dumbledore leave, Gwyn looked sideways towards Snape and Percy, but they too had vanished. Snape was following Dumbledore out of the hall and Percy had moved away from them.

Turning her head towards her friends, Gwyn saw that, sure enough, they were wide awake.

"What was all that about?" Ron whispered, so quietly that nobody heard them. Gwyn shook her head, unable to shake the feeling, deep in the pit of her stomach, that somehow, all of this was a horrible misunderstanding.

--

The only thing that the school would discuss for the next few days was Sirius Black. Gwyn could barely go anywhere without hearing whispers and speculations by fellow students.

After the attack, the Fat Lady refused to return to her post and the portrait of a knight named Sir Cadogan replaced it. According to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, he usually hung over by the North Tower, on their way to Divination, and was particularly mental. Gwyn, after a few days, had to agree with them, but she found herself charmed by the knight, amused by his antics.

With Quidditch season approaching, they saw less and less of Harry, as Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor captain, kept calling practices whenever he could and stopping him in the hall to give him advice, causing him to be late quite a few times. Gwyn tried to hurry the two along, but as it was Defence Against the Dark Arts, she didn't think that it would have been as big a deal as it would've been with McGonagall or Snape.

Unfortunately, she was wrong, because the second that she was in the class, her heart sunk. Instead of the mild-tempered Lupin sitting at the desk, Snape was standing there.

Silently cursing under her breath and praying that Wood would let Harry go quickly so Snape wouldn't have an excuse to dock points, Gwyn moved to her seat in the middle, with Ron and Hermione.

"Where's Lupin?" Gwyn whispered anxiously to Hermione, who shook her head, looking worried.

"Where's Harry?" she whispered back.

"With Wood."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Gwyn sighed as the rest of the class filed in, all of them looking despairingly as they saw Snape. Neville went white as he nervously took his seat. "He'd better hurry, class is about to start."

But unfortunately, Wood must've been taking longer than usual, because Harry was ten minutes late when he finally arrived, causing Snape to take ten points off of Gryffindor and then another five when Harry started questioning about Lupin's whereabouts before finally taking his seat when Snape threatened to dock fifty points.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far—"

"Please, sir, we've done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows," Hermione said helpfully, "and we're just about to start—"

"Be quiet," Snape snapped. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organisation."

Anger rose through Gwyn and she spoke without thinking. "He's the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher that we've ever had," she said. Most of the class nodded their heads in agreement and a few murmured their approval.

Snape looked even more dangerous than before at her comment. "You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaking you—I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss . . ." He paused, flipping through the textbook. "Werewolves," he completed.

"But sir," Hermione protested, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start hinkypunks."

"Miss Granger, I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394. _All_ of you! _NOW_!"

With a small sigh, Gwyn cast a look at Hermione, shaking her head before turning the pages. "Let's just get through this," she said, so quietly that her voice might've been a breath of the wind, but her friends heard her.

Unfortunately, Ron couldn't keep himself quiet, especially after Snape insulted Hermione, and earned himself a detention. Gwyn didn't know what was wrong with Lupin, but she prayed that he got better soon. There was only so much of Snape she could take in a twenty four hour period.

--

On Saturday morning, Gwyn woke up to the sound of rain pattering against the windows, lightning striking the sky, and thunder rumbling overhead. She groaned slightly, turning on her side to peer out the window at the dark sky that hovered overhead. No way was it going to clear up by the time that the Quidditch game started.

Unable to get back to sleep, Gwyn finally climbed out of bed, quickly dressing in the bathroom and brushing out her hair, pulling it into a quick ponytail before going downstairs, carrying Tabby in her arms, letting him down when she reached the bottom.

Immediately Tabby meowed as he raced over to the fire and jumped into Harry's lap, startling him. Gwyn shook her head as she walked over to her best friend. "Doesn't anybody sleep around here?"

"Apparently not. You couldn't sleep either?"

"Too noisy. I just came down here to read some of my mum's diary," Gwyn said, shrugging as she held out the leather bound journal she had with her. Harry looked at in interestedly.

"Is there anything about my parents in there?"

"Yeah, some stuff. Mostly about your mum, since they were best friends. Not too much about your dad yet, but I'm only just reaching the fifth-year. I don't know when they started dating."

"Me neither," Harry said longingly. "You mind reading it aloud?"

Gwyn smiled. "Not at all," she answered as she got into a comfortable position and opened the diary, turning to where she had left off at.

_January 14__th__, 1975_

_Sorry, I know it's been awhile since I last wrote, but there's just been so much stuff happening that I haven't had a chance to really sit down and let it all sink in. And it's not just school stuff, it's everything else that's happening outside in the world too, not to mention some personal stuff. I never thought that I'd say this, but once you get past that whole rebel-without-a-cause thing, Sirius is actually a pretty decent guy. _

_Well, he's still the most annoying pervert that I've ever met, but he's still pretty okay. Lily's pretty annoyed at the whole thing about Sirius and me starting to see each other a lot more, but I think she's secretly happy for us. Personally, I think she just wants that fairy-tale romance that we always talk about. You know, the guy that will come and sweep us off our feet. _

_Gil's actually pretty thrilled when he heard about it, but I think that it's mostly because Sirius is pure-blood. Honestly, I think that my parents would be happy to have me marry anybody, so long as there wasn't a drop of Muggle blood in their veins. It's no wonder that I don't bring anybody around the house during the summer holidays. If I could, then I'd go and spend all of them with Lily and her family. . . . _

_Of course, if her sister's anything like Lily describes, then I'm not sure which one is worse. According to Lily, Petunia hates anything to do with magic. _

_But things are starting to get worse around here. Voldemort's gathering more and more followers. There have been more disappearances, more deaths, more mysterious incidents. This is the only place that I can truly admit this: I'm afraid. Afraid of what's to come, afraid of what's going to happen. _

_They say that Dumbledore's the only wizard that Voldemort has ever feared, but I don't know if anything can stop this. But I will say this: I will never serve Voldemort. I'll die first. I will fight, with every inch of my breath, to keep the people of this world and the Muggle world safe. I'll do whatever it takes to stop him and his followers, the so-called Death Eaters. _

--

After reading a few more passages, Gwyn finally closed the journal and she and Harry headed downstairs for breakfast together, sitting down at the Gryffindor table. It was quiet and still, except for the few teachers that were there and even fewer students.

Gwyn silently got a few eggs, bacon, and toast before chewing on them absently, staring up at the sky, worried. Rarely had she seen the sky so dark and thunder rumble so loudly.

"You really think it's safe to play in this kind of weather?" she asked Harry, who was working on a bowl of porridge.

"Probably not, but Quidditch doesn't get cancelled because of bad weather," Harry said with a sigh. Gwyn nodded, but personally thought that it was a bit ridiculous, to have them play in this dangerous of a storm. Somebody could get seriously hurt. "I don't even know _how_ I'm going to be able to see with that rain . . ."

Gwyn frowned slightly, then brightened as she remembered something from one of her Charms. "Hold on, give me your glasses for a second," she said, withdrawing her wand. Harry looked puzzled, but obeyed. "There's this one spell in one of my books I've been practicing with." She tapped his glasses and chanted, "_Impervius!_"

"What did that do?" Harry asked as she handed his glasses back to him. He slipped them back on as the rest of the team joined them.

"Well, if I cast the spell right, then they'll repel water."

Wood looked thrilled and impressed, looking at her as though he could kiss her. "Brilliant," he breathed, thrilled. Gwyn grinned and Harry looked a little bit more relaxed, albeit not completely calm, as they started talking about the match.

Gwyn said goodbye and good luck to Harry when he went with the team down to the locker rooms. It only took one step outside for him to look at her and said, "The spell worked." She chuckled before hugging him briefly and walking with Ron and Hermione to the stands, hovering underneath umbrellas as the match began.

Even underneath the umbrella, Gwyn was getting wetter than she'd ever been in her life. Her blonde hair was soon plastered to her forehead and she was blinking water out of her eyes as she scanned the sky, keeping a close watch out for Harry.

She could barely hear anything over the thunder and wind; it was starting to hurt her ears. It was starting to get really dangerous out here; Gwyn could feel her heart hammering against her chest in anticipation and anxiety as she kept her eyes fastened on the tiny dot that was Harry.

Without warning, she felt an eerie cold surge through her, straight down into her inside, into her stomach, into her heart . . . everywhere. Drawing her eyes from Harry, she let out a small whimper as she saw the source of the coldness.

Dementors.

A hundred of them, all of them with their faces hidden, had suddenly appeared in the stadium and just like on the train, Gwyn was pulled into the past and the blonde woman was pushing her into someone else's arms again.

With a gasp of anguish and pain, Gwyn gripped her hair as she was yanked into that painful memory, but it was sharper this time. She saw the blonde woman more clearly than before, her brown eyes wide and frantic as people screamed around her. And she heard the words that she spoke, fast and urgent.

_"Remus, take Gwyn back to my house! Don't worry about me, I'll be there shortly!" _

_"Aurora—"_

_"Go! I have to help them!" _

"Mum," Gwyn whispered, her voice trembling as she struggled to break free of the memory, but it was holding on to her tightly. "No, stop, please . . . Mum, don't go."

Feeling the coldness of the dementors slowly start to push itself away, Gwyn forced herself to look up, feeling the memories start to fade away. Dumbledore was on his feet, sending a silver mist towards the dementors, repelling them.

"Gwyn!" Hermione was shaking her frantically. "Gwyn, are you all right? Can you say anything?"

"Hermione . . . where's Harry?" she finally managed, trying to search the sky and find her best friend, but he wasn't there. Neither was anybody else, as a matter of fact.

Giving a small sniffle, Hermione pointed towards the ground and Gwyn looked. What she saw almost made her pass out.

Lying on the ground, in a twisted position, was Harry.

--

Gwyn had no idea how she managed to get out of the stands and to the hospital wing; she was in a daze for most of the time, her mind in a state of panic after she saw Harry lying like that on the ground, so helpless and fragile that she could barely think about what would happen if he died. The only conscious thing she was aware of was when she sat as his bedside with Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Gryffindor team, save for Wood.

She didn't hear the conversations whispering around her as she sat curled up in a seat, her blue eyes fixed on Harry's still form, her fingers laced around his as she just sat there.

"Is she all right?" Gwyn heard Ron whisper nearby.

"I think she just . . . she'll be fine, I think," Hermione whispered back. "She's just in shock."

"Who wouldn't be? That's the first time that Harry didn't get the Snitch!"

"Ronald Weasley—"

Before Hermione could tell Ron off, Gwyn felt pressure against her hand and she jumped, causing a few people around to cry out in surprise. "Harry?" she asked anxiously and his green eyes fluttered open. "Thank goodness! Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm brilliant," Harry said. Gwyn almost laughed as she heard the sarcasm in his voice; sarcasm was good. She handed him his glasses and he sat up quickly. "What happened?"

"Well, you fell off your broom . . ." Ron said uncertainly.

"Really?" Harry replied. "I meant the match. Who won?"

Hermione exchanged a look with Gwyn before looking at Harry. "Nobody blames you, Harry, the dementors aren't supposed to come on the grounds."

"Diggory got the Snitch," George explained. "Just after you fell. He didn't realise what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch, but they won fair and square . . . even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?"

"Still in the showers," Fred reported. "We think he's trying to drown himself. Come on, Harry," he said when Harry gripped his hair. Gwyn placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and he looked up. "There had to be one time you didn't get the Snitch."

"It's not over," George added, but Gwyn tuned them out as they started talking Quidditch, her concern focused on Harry.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, his tone short and disgusted, looking furious and upset with himself. Gwyn understood what Quidditch meant to him; it was the one place where he could go and people treated him like he wasn't just a famous name. But it was one match; she just relieved that he was alive to tell the tale. She had never been so scared as she had been when she had seen him lying on the ground.

Madam Pomfrey eventually came and kicked everybody but Gwyn, Hermione, and Ron out. Hermione told him what had happened after he'd fallen off—in which Gwyn had been in some sort of daze, so she listened too.

"Did somebody get my Nimbus?" Harry asked, changing the subject. Gwyn didn't miss the look that passed between Hermione and Ron. "What?"

"Well . . ." Hermione looked anxious as she spoke. "When you fell off, it got blown away.

"And?"

"And it hit—it hit—oh, Harry—it hit the Whomping Willow?"

Gwyn looked around at Hermione in horror, recognising the name of the tree that Ron and Harry had crashed into last year when they'd flown Ron's dad's car to Hogwarts after they'd missed the train.

"And?" Harry repeated.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," Ron said offhandedly, "it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it by just before you came around," Hermione said, reaching for a bag at her feet. Gwyn closed her eyes as she saw the broken remains of Harry's broomstick.

Gwyn wasn't sure at what point made her think of it, but as she, Ron, and Hermione sat there with Harry, it suddenly started to dawn on Gwyn just how much that day's events had frightened her.

And she started to think that she knew what her greatest fear might be.


	10. Secrets of the Past

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Ten: Secrets of the Past

It was still early when Gwyn wandered into the library the next day. Madam Pince was still sorting through the returned books from the previous evening. She gave Gwyn a pointed look when she saw her walking in, frowning as the blonde witch walked aimlessly around.

"So," she said with a sigh, "what are you looking for now?" Gwyn bit her lip, not sure exactly why she came in here for, but the answer came rolling off her tongue before she even thought about.

"Do we have newspapers for the _Daily Prophet_ going back about eleven years?" she wanted to know. The librarian looked highly suspicious about her question, but jerked her head towards the opposite end.

"Over there," she said, her tone clipped. "Look under the year and then in the index for what you're looking for. Should be in there somewhere." She walked away from Gwyn to return to what she was doing while Gwyn walked over to the books she indicated, instantly finding 1983 and withdrawing it carefully before settling herself down on the table.

"Okay, let's see here . . ." she muttered to herself, opening it up to the index, turning to the T's. "Toren . . . Toren . . . or would it be under Swann?" she asked herself. There was nothing under Toren or Swann. But where else would it be under? Surely there would've been something about the attack on Diagon Alley after Voldemort's fall . . .

"Try Dark Mark," Madam Pince told her as she passed by Gwyn. The blonde witch looked around at her in bewilderment. "It's You-Know-Who's mark. They usually file most of the attacks under that name. If it's not under that, then try 'Death Eater'. It's usually one of the two."

"Oh . . . thanks, Madam Pince," Gwyn said gratefully, turning to the D's. Sure enough, there was a list of articles under Dark Mark. Once she had found that, she scanned for articles that had to do with the one she was looking for. There were three under Diagon Alley and Gwyn turned to the first one.

"No, that's not it," she muttered darkly before turning to the next one. Finally, on the last one, she found the one that she was looking for.

_**ATTACK IN DIAGON ALLEY**_

Gwyn took a deep breath before plunging into the article that had taken away one young woman's life and left her daughter motherless.

_Early this morning, at approximately 11:00 a.m. on the morning of April 12__th__, 1983, Diagon Alley was attacked by Gawain Toren, 24, son of Gareth and Angela Toren. Although questioned and accused of being a Death Eater, Toren was found innocent of his crimes and released. However, it seems that this young wizard is not as faultless as he appeared. _

_In addition to three wizards—whose families requested that they remain nameless—being killed, he hospitalised five more with various conditions and was found guilty of the Imperius Curse on four more. The most serious act is the murder of his cousin, Aurora Toren-Swann. (Picture shown at right)_

Gwyn looked at the picture of the beautiful blonde witch in the picture and saw her mother beaming up at her unsuspecting daughter. A lump formed in her throat as she returned to the article.

_Mrs. Swann, 23, was shopping with her young daughter, Guinevere, age 2, when her cousin attacked. After placing her daughter in the care of a family friend, Mrs. Swann aided the wizards in danger, rushing to get them to safety before duelling with her cousin. Eyewitnesses claim that both were a rush of power and ability. _

_Although she was one of the best Charms students while at Hogwarts School, Mrs. Swann was hit by the Killing Curse, managing just before it was struck to cast the Stunning Spell upon her cousin, leaving Toren to be arrested by Ministry officials only moments later. Toren was then sentenced to a life imprisonment in Azkaban._

_Aurora Toren-Swann was the daughter of Cormack and Fainne Toren, younger sister of Gillian Toren, wife of William Swann, and the mother of Guinevere Swann. We honour the sacrifice she made and hope that you find peace. We are forever in her debt for giving her life to save not only those in Diagon Alley, but in the capture of a dangerous wizard. _

Gwyn was crying by the time that she finished reading the article. Madam Pince seemed to take pity on her and conjured a handkerchief for her and Gwyn dabbed her eyes as she looked back at the article, wiping away the tears still clinging to her eyelashes.

"Is there, uh . . . any chance I could get a copy of this?" she asked hesitantly. Madam Pince looked surprised, but upon seeing Gwyn's face, nodded and transfigured a copy of the article, handing it to Gwyn.

After returning the book to where it belonged, Gwyn headed to the door, the article pressed to her chest, but Madam Pince stopped her.

"She was one of the best students that ever graced these halls, Miss Swann," she said quietly. Gwyn looked back at her, but Madam Pince was looking at the table that Gwyn and her friends usually took when they were in here. "She and Lily Evans used to sit at that spot, when they were in here. Same place you and your friends do. And she was one of the kindest girls that I ever met."

"Thank you," Gwyn whispered, truly meaning it. The librarian nodded, her gaze still years in the past as Gwyn retreated a few feet, looking at Madam Pince before leaving the library, heading for the hospital wing, not realising that was where she was going until she was halfway there.

Gwyn found Harry already awake by the time that she reached the hospital wing and very happy to see her. She noticed that he still had the bag containing his broken broom.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked her, looking at her. He'd looked perturbed when she'd entered, but now his attention was focused on her, peering at her carefully. "You've been crying."

Pulling the article out of her pocket, Gwyn handed it to him without a word. "I was there, Harry," she said helplessly as he read it carefully. "I was there when my mum was killed. We were shopping together. Just shopping," she whispered, shaking her head. "Then she gave me to a friend, so he could give me back to my dad."

"What friend?"

"I think it was Professor Lupin," she admitted. Harry looked up, startled at her confession. "He knew my mum and when the dementors get close, I hear her telling him to take me. I hear him, too, trying to stop her."

Harry's expression was filled with sympathy and understanding as he reached across and gripped her hand tightly. "Whenever the dementors are around me, I can hear my mum screaming," he said softly, looking away. Gwyn stared at him. "I hear her begging Voldemort to kill her instead, pleading with him to take her instead of me." He swallowed and looked at her. "What made you go look this up?"

"I don't know," Gwyn sighed, but looked at him. "Maybe it was hearing her voice, for what felt like the first time in my life. And I see her sometimes, in my dreams, with a man wearing a skull-mask. I wanted to know who was behind the mask." She gave a short laugh that held no mirth. "Her cousin. It was her own cousin."

Harry said nothing to that, just looked at her. Gwyn shook her head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to walk in here and pile this in your lap," she apologised, but he waved it aside.

"Believe me, I'd rather listen to anything you've got to say than just sit here alone with my thoughts," Harry said with a sigh. He followed her gaze to his broken broom and shrugged. "I can't bring myself to throw it away. I know it's beyond repair, but . . ."

Gwyn nodded, getting it. "You know, you can borrow mine, if you can't get a new one before the next match," she offered. Harry smiled faintly. "It's got to be better than any of the school's."

"Thanks. I might take you up on that," he agreed just before Ron and Hermione came in, along with the Gryffindor team, who had Wood in tow with them this time.

--

Monday morning came faster than any of them expected and Madam Pomfrey finally released Harry from the hospital. Malfoy, in a gleeful attempt to torment Harry about his fall, finally removed his bandages that he'd "suffered" from Buckbeak. After being subjected to Snape's unfair teaching and authority during Potions, Ron vowed not to go into Defence Against the Dark Arts unless it was Lupin teaching, which thankfully, it was, though he looked as though he had been sick.

Still, he greeted them merrily enough and listened intently to their complaints about Snape and how he'd assigned them an essay on werewolves.

"Didn't you tell Professor Snape that we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin queried, his eyebrows knitted together and the class burst in explanations again before he silenced them. "Don't worry, I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."

"Oh, no," Hermione moaned. "I already finished it." Gwyn covered her mouth to stifle the small giggle that burst forth at Hermione's protest, but managed to control herself as they moved on to hinkypunks.

--

It was only after lessons the following day that Gwyn finally managed to find the time to track down Lupin. She had looked for Lupin after the match, but he was nowhere to be found, so after his reappearance at lessons, she decided to talk to him as soon as she could.

Lupin looked up at her knock and smiled at her. "Gwyn, what a pleasant surprise," he said, waving her in. She closed the door behind her. "Would you care for some tea?"

"Sure, thanks." Gwyn noticed that he was grading some papers. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to interrupt. . . ."

"Oh, to be honest, I was looking for an excuse to get my head out of these papers," Lupin said with a laugh. "I forgot how first-year students can be. So . . ." he added as he handed her a cup of tea. "What can I do for you?" Gwyn paused, not sure how to phrase her problem. "Is it about what we discussed the last time?"

"Yes," Gwyn said, her heart hammering in her chest as she looked up at her professor. "I think I've finally figured it out."

"And?" Lupin prompted.

Gwyn swallowed. "It's Harry," she whispered. "He's my greatest fear. But I'm not afraid _of_ him," she added, worried that he might have misunderstood. "I'm afraid _for_ him. So much has happened since I met him, so many dangerous events that I . . ." Tears flooded her eyes. "I'm scared that something might happen to him."

Lupin nodded, not unkindly. "I know," he assured her. "I've seen the way that you look at him."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you know?" Lupin asked her. "Think, Gwyn. Look into your heart. What's the real reason that you're afraid that something might happen to Harry? Take your time," he added.

For a minute, Gwyn just stared down at her tea. Why was she so scared, afraid for him? She knew he could take care of himself, had seen him go bravely into battle, despite the odds that were against him, and come out victorious. So why was she afraid that something might happen to him?

Was it because that she knew, in her heart, that everyone had their limits? That there might be one battle that he might not come out of?

No, not that precisely. It was tied to it, but something else. Gwyn closed her eyes, her mind travelling through the voyage of her journey, since she had first arrived at this school. She had been eleven when she'd met Harry, barely a child, and now she was slowly moving towards womanhood. She'd already become a woman this past summer, when her bleedings began.

And she was no longer young. They were all growing up. Maybe when they first met, she had felt friendship with him, but as they had grown up together, it had blossomed into something else. Something that she was just scratching the surface of.

She was terrified of something happening to him because he was her best friend, because . . . because she cared about him.

Because she loved him.

Gwyn sucked in her breath as she raised her head towards Lupin, blue eyes wide with shock. "Oh, my god," was all she was capable of saying for a moment. "Oh, my god."

"I thought that might be your reaction," Lupin mused. "It's very interesting, you know. Aurora's daughter and Lily's son to fall in love with one another. They would've been thrilled, Gwyn. And James would have found it hilarious," he added dryly.

Even through her state of shock, Gwyn felt a small laugh escape from her mouth. Covering it, she felt her shoulders shaking in amusement and astonishment. "This can't be happening," she said, shaking her head in denial.

"Gwyn," Lupin told her. "Are you afraid that this might complicate your friendship with him?" The blonde witch looked down. "Because it will. But it's not necessarily a bad thing."

Slowly, Gwyn raised her head to look at Lupin, wringing her hands together nervously as her mind spun around at the thought of her and Harry . . . no, too soon. He was her best friend and maybe she felt something more recently, but . . . but she wasn't ready for a relationship like that just yet.

"Drink your tea," Lupin instructed and she obeyed, unable to do anything else. "Now, are you ready to face your fears?"

Gwyn looked at him as acceptance settled upon her. "I'm gonna have to do it sometime."

Lupin nodded, watching her carefully. "Well, I'm afraid it's going to have to wait until after the holidays. I chose an inconvenient time to fall ill."

--

Winter soon came to Hogwarts and Gwyn woke one morning to find the grounds blanketed in a thick, white powder. The entire castle was in the holiday cheer. As usual, Gwyn opted for staying at Hogwarts rather than going to America with Madeline to spend it with her sister. Ron and Hermione were staying too, mostly to keep Harry company with her, she thought.

But the best news of all was the fact that there was another Hogsmeade trip just before the holidays and, as Hermione had pointed out, they could do their holiday shopping there.

After a rueful goodbye to Harry, Gwyn made her way to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione, slightly worried about her best friend up at the castle. Her Seer senses were tingling as she trudged through the snow with her friends, wandering in and out of the shops, buying Christmas presents and small knickknacks for Harry.

Gwyn glanced up as they were inside Honeydukes, looking for some sweets for Harry while Ron and Hermione examined some blood-flavoured lollipops. Her mouth opened in surprise as she saw Harry walking towards them, a mischievous grin on his face. He placed a finger to his lips as he sneaked up behind them. Getting the hint, Gwyn kept quiet as Ron picked up a jar of Cockroach Clusters, showing them to Hermione.

"How about these?"

"Definitely not," Harry told him, causing Ron to drop the jar and would've broken it had Gwyn not caught it, setting it back on the table. Hermione looked astounded as she gawked at the dark-haired wizard.

"Harry! What are you doing here? How—how did you?"

"Wow!" Ron looked impressed. "You've learned to Apparate!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Gwyn told him, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, how'd you get out here?" she asked Harry, who lowered his voice as he explained.

Apparently, Fred and George had a map that showed secret passageways out of the castle and where everyone inside of it was at every moment of every day. They had stolen it from Filch's office during their first-year and had now bestowed it to Harry.

"How come they never told me about any Marauder's Map?" Ron complained. "I'm their brother!"

"But Harry isn't going to keep it," Hermione said, looking at the wizard in question, who rooted on the spot. "He's going to turn it into Professor McGonagall . . . aren't you?"

"Oh, sure, along with his invisibility cloak," Ron said dryly. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Gwyn beat her to it.

"Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas," she pointed out. "Besides, it's not like Sirius Black is going to come barging through here in midday with dementors swarming the place." Gwyn, Harry, and Ron all looked at Hermione, waiting to see if she was going to report him, but she finally sighed and gave in to the inevitable.

"Oh, all right, but we've got to be careful," she whispered. "You don't have a signed form, Harry."

"Like anybody's going to see him in this," Ron said as they headed out of the shop and into the blizzard, showing Harry the sights of Hogsmeade. It didn't take them long to be shivering, especially Harry, who didn't have his cloak.

"Let's go into Three Broomsticks," Gwyn suggested, shivering violently under her cloak. "We can get a butterbeer."

"Good idea," Ron agreed, turning around to lead the way back to the pub and getting a table in the back while Ron got the drinks.

Gwyn took her tankard gratefully, sipping hers just as a flash of warning shot through her. "Oh, no!" she whispered.

"What?" Harry asked her, alarmed.

Gwyn looked at him anxiously. "Well, I think that there's going to be a couple teachers coming through here," she said as the door opened and all four of their heads shot towards the sound. "And possibly the Minister, too," she added lamely as Harry dived under the table and Hermione moved the tree to shield them from the teachers' view. "Sorry . . ."

"It's not your fault, you can't control it," Harry said from under the table.

"Shh," Hermione hushed him, her face white as the group settled down not to far from them.

Gwyn waited anxiously as they got their drinks, settling down with Madam Rosemerta and conversation struck up between them. Undoubtedly, it was about Sirius Black. The blonde witch fidgeted nervously as she listened to the discussion.

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," Madam Rosmerta said sadly and remorsefully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought . . . I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosemerta." Gwyn frowned at the Minister's words. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"What could be worse than murdering all those poor people?"

"Naturally! Never saw one without the other, did you? The umber of times I had them in here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

A loud clunk was heard from underneath them and Gwyn winced, praying they hadn't heard it as her head spun. Harry's dad had been friends with Sirius Black?

"Precisely," McGonagall confirmed. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've every had such a pair of troublemakers—"

"I dunno," Hagrid laughed. "The Wesley twins could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought that Black and Potter were brothers!" Flitwick added. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," Fudge agreed. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends and nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry." Gwyn sucked in her breath at that revelation. "Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?"

"Worse than that, m'dear. Not may people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was working tirelessly against him, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off and he alerted Lily and James at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

Gwyn recognised that name from one of her books; it was a spell to conceal a secret inside a single soul. So long as the chosen person—the Secret Keeper—remained silent, the secret is impossible to find. It was a perfect spell to use to go into hiding.

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?"

"Naturally," McGonagall answered. "James told Dumbledore that Black would rather die than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself . . .and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" Rosmerta whispered.

"He was sure that someone close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements. Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," Fudge confirmed. "And then, barely, a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"

"Black betrayed them?" Rosmerta queried.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colours as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"

Gwyn felt her blood chill as Hagrid said loudly, "Filthy, sinkin' turncoat!" The pub went very quiet when he spoke.

"Hush, Hagrid," McGonagall whispered.

"I met him!" Hagrid snapped. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily and James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead . . . an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shaking, he was, goin' on about Aurora and dreams." Hermione's hand moved to cover Gwyn's mouth at the blonde witch's gasp. "An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED The MURDERIN' TRAITOR!"

"Hagrid, please!" McGonagall hushed him as the pub went quiet again at his outburst. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! A' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him—' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end, he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says. I should've known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore. Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him." Hagrid's voice grew lower and dangerous as he continued his tale. "_But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh?_ I'd bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore. . . ."

There was a long pause as Hagrid's tale came to a close before Rosmerta broke it. "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"If only we had," Fudge said sadly. "It was not use who found him, but little Peter Pettigrew, another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself.

"Pettigrew . . . that fat little boy always trailing after them at Hogwarts?"

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," McGonagall agreed. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often . . . rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I—how I regret that now . . ." Gwyn was shocked to hear McGonagall crying.

"There, now, Minerva," Fudge comforted her. "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later—told us how Pettigrew cornered Black, sobbing. 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you!' Then he went for his wand. Of course, Black was quicker, blew Pettigrew to smithereens. . . ."

"Stupid boy . . . foolish boy . . . he was always hopeless at duelling . . . should have left it to the Ministry. . . ."

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands—I'd've ripped him limb—from—limb!"

"You don't know what you're talking about Hagrid. Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered those people. I will . . . I'll never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep that it cracked the sewer, bodies everywhere, Muggles screaming . . . and Black was just standing there, laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him. A heap of bloodstained robes and a few—a few fragments—"

Gwyn frowned slightly as noses were blown. _That doesn't make any sense. If the damage was as bad as they're making it out to be, then nothing would have survived that. The robes would've been completely destroyed. _

"Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. And Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," Fudge said carefully. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for awhile. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man—cruel . . . pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them . . . but I was shocked at how _normal_ Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored—asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him—and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do? Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?" Rosmerta sounded anxious and worried as she spoke.

"I daresay that is his—er—eventual plan. But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing . . . but give him back his most devoted servant and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again. . . ."

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," McGonagall told him.

Gwyn couldn't even breathe as she listened to the group push back their chairs and swung their cloaks around their shoulders before heading towards the door. She felt a rush of cold air before the door closed again and they were left without the presence of their teachers.

Slowly, she lowered her gaze underneath the table, where Harry was lying on the floor, his green eyes wide with shock, anguish, and torment. And she had no idea what to say to him or how to help him.

No idea at all.


	11. Sticking With Family

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Eleven: Sticking With Family

Gwyn had trouble sleeping that night, her dreams plagued with images of her mother being lost in a crowd and duelling with her cousin before being struck down. Then the images turned to a Muggle street, where she saw two figures talking to one another before the street was blown apart. The man left standing turned his face towards her and she saw it was Black.

With a gasp, Gwyn sat up straight, her eyes searching her surroundings and she realised that she was in her dormitory, in her bed, with the curtains drawn around them.

Taking several deep, calming breaths, Gwyn slowly got to her feet, pulling the curtains aside to climb out of bed. Hermione was still asleep—either that or she was just pretending to be. The rest of the girls had already left for the holidays.

Unsteadily, she walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind her before she walked over to the sink and splashed water on her face, wiping away the sweat that had accompanied the dream and swallowing some cool water to calm herself.

Finally, she raised her head to look at her reflection, shocked at how pale she looked, how wide her blue eyes were.

"He's a murderer," Gwyn told herself firmly. "Black is a murderer and there's nothing that you can do that is going to change that. The man that your mum knew is dead and the murdering psycho took his place. You can't do anything about it. You can't change the past and you can't change who a person is, not when they've gone to the Dark Side. And it's time to stop dwelling on the fact that your mum was wrong about him."

But even as she told herself that, Gwyn couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she was missing, some clue that she had missed. And she couldn't stop feeling as though there was something twelve years ago that had gone horribly wrong.

"Gwyn?"

Looking around, she saw Hermione standing in the doorway, looking at her worriedly. Gwyn gave her what she hoped was a convincing smile. "I'm all right. Just . . . weird dreams."

Hermione gave her a pointed look. "You always have weird dreams and they always mean something," she said calmly. "Now, you want to tell me what you're really worried about?"

Slowly, Gwyn sank down onto the cool, tile floor and Hermione joined her. "I keep reading my mum's diary," she whispered. "And she knew him, Hermione. She knew Sirius Black. She _dated_ him," she added, causing the bushy-haired witch to gasp. "And the way Mum describes him . . . if you read it, Hermione, you wouldn't think he'd be capable of being a murderer any more than any of us would."

"People change, Gwyn," Hermione said not unkindly. "It may sound unbelievable, but they can change a lot, from someone that you think you know to even a murdering scumbag."

Gwyn raised an eyebrow. "Did you just say 'scumbag'?"

Hermione blushed, smiling at the blonde witch. "My point is that even though your mum knew him, it's not ludicrous to think that he could change from the boy she knew. It was a different time then, Gwyn. I've read all about it; they were dark times and you didn't know who you could trust anymore."

"But my mum was a seer, Hermione, just the same as I was." Gwyn leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling.

"So?"

"So if Black's the person that everyone claims that he is—and even I admit that he's not acting like an innocent man—why didn't my mum know that he had turned? Wouldn't a seer know when one of her closest friends went to the other side?"

Hermione had no answer for her.

--

By the time that the girls emerged from their dormitory, Ron was already up and dressed, sitting next to the fire while the snow continued to fall outside. "Isn't he up yet?" Gwyn asked, throwing an anxious look towards the boys' dormitory. Ron shook his head. "Have you talked to him at all?"

"He was asleep when I checked on him last night," Ron answered, shrugging. He paused as Gwyn took a seat on one of the chairs and Hermione sat down between them. "You don't think he's going to do anything stupid, do you?"

Gwyn exchanged a look with Hermione, who answered, "Well, Harry has been known to do incredibly dangerous stunts and . . . oh, I don't know, maybe."

"He's not stupid enough to go after Black!" Gwyn protested.

"Maybe not, but when a person's desperate or angry enough, they do things completely unexpected," Hermione reasoned. Gwyn opened her mouth to argue some more when they heard the door to the dormitories open and close before footsteps climbed down and an exhausted looking Harry made his appearance.

"Harry, you look terrible," Ron observed, earning a glare from Gwyn as the dark-haired wizard sat down.

"Where is everybody?" he asked.

"They've already left," Gwyn answered. "It's the first day of the holidays."

"It's almost lunchtime," Ron added. "I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."

Gwyn looked closely at her best friend, noting the dark circles underneath his eyes. He must not have gotten much sleep last night. "You don't look well," she told him cautiously. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Some," he said vaguely and she exchanged a look with Hermione and Ron, who formed battle positions.

"Harry, listen," Hermione told him. "You must be upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."

"Like what?"

"Like going after Black," Ron answered.

Gwyn stared hard at Harry and he sensed her gaze, looking back at her. "You're not going to, are you?" she asked him.

"Because Black's not worth dying for," Ron told him.

Harry just stared stony-faced at Gwyn before looking at the other two. "Do you know what I see and hear every time a dementor gets too near me?" he asked. Gwyn looked down; yes, she knew. He had told her when he was in the hospital. "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be her friend betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her—"

"There's nothing you can do!" Hermione looked white. "The dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and serve him right!"

"You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him."

"So what are you saying?" Gwyn demanded, scared by his tone and the look on his face. "What do you, want to kill Black or something?" Harry didn't argue her statement. "Harry, please, listen to me . . . I know how you feel. If Mum's murderer escaped from Azkaban, I would want to do something too. But getting yourself killed isn't going to help things any. Do you really think that's what your mum and dad would want?"

"I don't know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," Harry snapped. Gwyn shrank back; it was the first time that he had ever lost his temper with her. "And who do you think you are, telling me how you feel? Wasn't it you at Halloween who said that you thought the Ministry had it wrong? Did you think that maybe the entire world was wrong too, Gwyn? That my parents really didn't choose Black for their Secret-Keeper? What's next on your train of self-delusion?"

Gwyn felt tears flood through her eyes and she stood up, not wanting him to see the tears as she fled the common room, racing out into the castle as tears came pouring down her face.

She didn't know how long she ran, just found herself at the top of the Astronomy Tower, shivering slightly in the cold winter air as she wrapped her arms around her, curling into a ball on the floor as she pulled her robes tighter around her as her best friend's ugly words rang through her mind, tears flooding down her cheeks.

--

Gwyn didn't know how long she sat there, just staring into the distance as the wind howled around the Astronomy Tower, her blonde hair blowing quietly in the wind. But eventually, she got up off of the floor and wandered through the castle, not particularly caring where she was going.

Eventually, she wandered outside and found herself trailing the familiar path to Hagrid's. Hagrid looked about as bad as she felt when he opened the door, but his expression brightened when he saw her.

"Good of yeh to come," he said once he had ushered her inside and made her a cup of tea. "Yeh just missed the others; they were just here." He looked at Gwyn curiously. "Everythin' all right? Not often that I see the four of yeh apart."

"We're fine," Gwyn said, shrugging. "Are you okay? You look . . ." She couldn't find the right word. "Did something happen?"

Hagrid pushed a letter towards her, his expression crumpling as she picked it up to read.

_Dear Mr. Hagrid,_

_Further to our inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident. _

_However, we must register our concerns about the hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20__th__, and we ask you to present yourself and your hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the hippogriff should be tethered and isolated. _

_Yours in fellowship . . ._

"Oh, Hagrid," Gwyn whispered as she looked up from the letter. Hagrid looked at her mournfully. "They can't do something like this, can they? I mean, can't you call up witnesses or something?"

"That's what Harry said when I told them about it," Hagrid said sadly. "Don't know what diff'rence it would make. Them people down at the Disposal Committee, they're friends of Malfoy, see? Scare o' him, the lot of 'em." He looked so miserably that Gwyn forgot about her own problems and patted his arm sympathetically. "Doesn't help that Lucius and ol' Cormack go way back and he's on the Committee."

Gwyn's stomach gave a violent jump at the name. "My grandfather?" she asked to make sure and Hagrid nodded. "Hagrid? What's my mother's family really like?"

Hagrid looked surprised at the change of subject, but his expression darkened. "Don't think that there were ever two students that were so interested in the Dark Arts than Alaric and Morgause Toren," he said darkly. "And that father of theirs was the same, when he was here. Most of the students are scared of 'em and for good reason. Only one Toren that I knew of was ever worth mentioning and she produced a very bright and kind daughter." He gave her a gentle smile. "Is everything all right, Gwyn?"

With a small sigh, Gwyn looked down at her hands. "Harry and I had a fight," she confessed. Hagrid looked surprised. "Actually, it wasn't a fight, exactly. He just said some things and then I ran out. But we never argue, not about anything. We . . . it's always Ron and Hermione who are at each other's throats."

"Even the best of friends fight sometimes," Hagrid said wisely. Gwyn looked up at him. "Don' worry about it, Gwyn. I'd be surprised if the two of yeh wen' yer whole lives without arguin' at least once. It happens, but yeh will make up. I'm not sayin' it won't happen again, but yeh need to forgive each other. I'm sure whatever happened, neither one of yeh meant it."

Gwyn sighed, looking down. Would they make up? she thought. She wasn't used to fighting with Harry; she didn't know what to expect. Could they forgive each other? Or more importantly, would they?

"I hope so," she whispered, imagining Harry's angry expression when she had tried to comfort him and the ugly words he had thrown at her. She inwardly shivered. "I don't like fighting with him."

Hagrid chuckled, patting her shoulder gently and nearly sending her to the table. Discreetly, she rubbed her jaw where she'd hit it. "Everything'll turn out all right, you'll see. Hungry?" he asked, offering her one of his famous rock-cakes, but Gwyn shook her head, having had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking.

"Yeh should see the castle tonight, they've been decorating all day," Hagrid told her in an effort to get her mind off of the fight. "It's gonna look beautiful when it's done."

"It always does," Gwyn said with a smile, but it wasn't the castle that she was talking about, but the friendship she'd created over two years ago when Gwyn, a girl of eleven years old, had first arrived at this school. And the friends that she'd met had grown closer to her than family. In more ways than one, they were her family.

And family stuck together, no matter what they did to one another.

--

It was near dinnertime when Gwyn finally headed up to the Gryffindor common room, where her friends were sitting at the table with about twenty or so library books on various subjects, reading through them and talking quietly, but they fell silent upon seeing Gwyn enter the common room.

Hermione gave Harry a significant look before grabbing Ron's arm. "We're going to head to dinner," she said quickly. "We'll see you two in a little bit." Ron looked disappointed, but followed Hermione out of the common room.

Gwyn had her hands shoved into her pockets and stared at the floor for a full minute before she forced herself to look up. Harry was looking anywhere but at her, but the shame was evident in his eyes. After a long moment of silence, she finally walked over to the chairs, sitting across from him.

"One of us should talk before we graduate," she said with a bit a humour. Harry's mouth twitched into a smile and he finally looked at her. "I'm sorry."

Harry actually looked shocked. "_You're_ sorry? For what?"

"For believing that a deranged murdered who betrayed your mum and dad was innocent?" Gwyn suggested as she curled up in the chair, laying her head onto her hand. "And you weren't entirely wrong what you said earlier. A part of me doesn't want to believe that my mum was wrong about him. I wish I didn't feel this way, but I can't wish these feelings away."

"And you wouldn't be Gwyn Swann if you didn't believe the best in people," Harry replied. She looked up at him. "I'm not gonna lie, I really want to hurt him for betraying Mum and Dad, but I know why you want to believe it. I know that . . . you understand it better than anybody else. I'm not the only one around here who lost a parent to Voldemort."

"Harry . . . please don't go after him," Gwyn said after a long moment. He looked at her quickly. "I don't know what happened back then to make him change, but I don't want to lose you the way that Mum lost Black. And I'm scared that if you . . ." She trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. "Don't go after him," she finally said.

Her best friend was quiet before he finally said, "I won't. I promise."

Gwyn smiled, the first true smile that she'd worn for awhile, and she moved to wrap her arms around his neck. She felt him hug her back, holding her tightly to him. "Let's not fight again," she said and he chuckled. "Fighting with friends is no fun."

"Agreed," Harry decided as he let go of her and stood up. "You hungry?"

"I could eat," Gwyn answered as she took his offered hand and they walked out of the common room, their friendship renewed and burning brighter than ever.

--

It was early on Christmas morning when Gwyn was woken by Tabby, who was licking his mistress on the nose in an attempt to wake her. Gwyn groaned, rubbing her eyes as she scooped up her cat, placing him into her lap as she stroked him.

"What are you doing, Tabby?" she said, shaking her head at him, but he only pawed playfully at her fingers before leaping on the pile of presents at the end of the bed, attacking the ribbon on one of them. Gwyn giggled at his playfulness, but obeyed his instructions as she reached for the present, carefully untying the ribbon so he could play with it.

With Tabby successfully distracted, she unfolded the present from Madeline, who was currently overseas, spending her Christmas as usual with her sister. "Here's hoping that you're safe and well," Gwyn read the card before unfolding the wrapping and found a box stuffed of homemade chocolates and cookies. Along with this was a blue collar with a name tag on it for Tabby.

Grinning, Gwyn got a hold of her cat and slipped it around his neck, making sure it wasn't too tight before she released him again and he bounced on the ribbon again.

Shaking her head, Gwyn returned to her other presents, which included a book on potions from Hermione, a box of Chocolate Frogs from Ron, a blue sapphire sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a two-sided photograph frame from Harry. Gwyn had frowned at his present before she opened it up and found on one side, a picture of her, Harry, Ron, and Hermione in front of Hogwarts and on the other was a photograph of Gwyn and her mother.

"Where did he find that?" Gwyn whispered in amazement, shaking her head. It wasn't the same one that was on her nightstand in Rosemary Grove. (AN: Yes, I finally gave Gwyn's village a name.)

"Where did he find what?" Hermione asked as she woke up, tearing open her presents. Gwyn showed her the photograph and Hermione looked in amazement at the picture of Aurora and Gwyn. "Is that . . ."

"Mum," Gwyn confirmed.

She traced over the two pictures affectionately before placing it carefully on her nightstand before making her way into the candy, tossing a piece to Hermione, who swiped it up and taking a bite out of it before she picked up Crookshanks. "Let's go see if the boys are up," she said as Tabby, bored with the ribbon, climbed onto his mistress's shoulder as she climbed out of bed and headed towards the bathroom to change before following Hermione.

By the time that she got there, she found Ron complaining, yet again, about Crookshanks trying to attack Scabbers. As much as she knew that it was cat nature, Gwyn had to admit that Ron might have a point. Tabby hadn't been tailing Scabbers the way that Crookshanks had been, even during first year.

But the most interesting thing of all was the mysterious present that Harry had received, a Firebolt. An international standardised broom that probably cost more than all of the brooms in the school put together. And there had been no card, no note, no hint as to who had really sent it. This seemed to disturb Hermione, but Gwyn was more intrigued than worried.

Finally, lunchtime came and the quartet made their way down to the Great Hall, where a single table sat in the middle of the room. "Merry Christmas!" Dumbledore greeted them. "Since there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables. . . . Sit down, sit down!" Once they had taken seats, Dumbledore picked up one of the large silver noisemakers, offering it to Snape, who reluctantly tugged, revealing a pointed witch's hat with a vulture on top. Gwyn had a very hard time keeping a straight face, remembering the boggart from Lupin's class, and dared not look at her friends, sure she wouldn't keep silent if she looked at them.

As they were digging into the meal, the doors opened once again and Gwyn looked up to see a very tall and thin woman gliding into the room. She had very large glasses, magnifying her eyes. Judging from her appearance, Gwyn had to guess that this was Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher. At least, she looked like what Harry and Ron had described her as. Actually, Harry's exact words had been "glittering, oversized dragonfly."

"Sibyll, what a pleasant surprise," Dumbledore greeted.

"I've been crystal gazing, Headmaster," Trelawney informed him in a vague, faraway voice. "And to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness. . . ."

"Certainly, certainly. Let me draw you up a chair . . ." Dumbledore waved his wand, conjuring a chair in between Snape and McGonagall. It hovered for a moment before landing.

Gwyn, about to taste the turkey, jumped a mile when Trelawney screamed. "I dare not, Headmaster! If I joint he table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sibyll," McGonagall said with a hint of impatience. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting cold."

"Is she always like this?" Gwyn whispered very softly to Harry, so quiet that nobody else overheard her.

"Always," he whispered back. "She'll be predicting my death any moment."

Gwyn giggled, despite the seriousness of his words, and returned to the meal. After two hours of excellent cooking and laughter, Gwyn got up with the boys to head back to the dormitory, causing Trelawney to shriek. "My dears! Which of you left their seat first? Which?" Her eyes were wide with fear and apprehension.

"I doubt it will make much difference," McGonagall commented. "Unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall." Ron laughed as they made their way into the entrance hall. Hermione stayed behind, claiming that she wanted to talk to McGonagall about something.

It was only when McGonagall came back with Hermione not too long later that Gwyn realised what Hermione wanted to talk to her about. The Firebolt.

Despite protest and arguments on all their parts, McGonagall took the broomstick away and Ron immediately launched his outrage on the nearest source: Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"

Hermione stood up, facing the redhead wizard defiantly. "Because I thought—and Professor McGonagall agrees with me—that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"

And a huge chunk of ice was sent into Gwyn's stomach and she had the horrible feeling that Hermione was absolutely right.


	12. Facing Her Fears

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Twelve: Facing Her Fears

The next few weeks of the Christmas holidays were no fun, as Harry and Ron were no longer speaking to Hermione because of the Firebolt incident. Hermione had begun to spend her days in the library and after desperate attempts to reunite them, Gwyn finally gave up on their stubbornness and resolved to spending time with all three of them. This was not the easiest task, as Ron kept shooting dirty looks at her whenever she was with Hermione, but somebody had to keep the circle together.

Right after the start of term, however, Gwyn had the opportunity to get her mind off of her friends' pointless argument when Harry informed them that he was going to be getting anti-dementor lessons from Lupin and she managed to talk to Lupin about her own lessons.

"Yes, of course," Lupin mused when she appeared at his office one day after class. "I have lessons with Harry on Thursday, so why don't you come Wednesday around eight at the History of Magic classroom? It's bound to be big enough for us to practice."

"Yeah, no problem, thank you," Gwyn said in appreciation. She didn't want to tell the boys about the lessons, mostly because of the reason behind her facing her fears, so she asked Hermione to cover for her.

"Sure, I'll be in the library all night anyway," Hermione told her. "But why don't you want to tell them?"

Gwyn fiddled with her mother's locket around her neck for a second, debating on whether or not to tell her the truth. "I'm just . . . I'm not ready to share this with them just yet," she finally admitted, not meeting Hermione's eyes. "I'm not ready to share my greatest fear with anybody just yet."

Hermione looked mystified, but accepted this as Gwyn headed off to her lessons, finding the classroom empty when she arrived, Professor Lupin arriving only a few moments later, heaving a large packing case on Binns' desk.

"Another boggart," Lupin explained to her puzzled look. "I found him hiding in Mr. Filch's filing cabinets. He should be happy enough in this cupboard under my desk when we're not using him. Now," he added, looking at the blonde witch. "Are you ready?"

Gwyn let out a slow breath, nodding. "I'm ready," she said with a confidence that she didn't feel.

"All right, you remember the spell we used in class? _Riddikulus!_" he prompted and she nodded. "We're going to be using that spell. When the boggart comes out of the case, I want you to concentrate your mind on something that will save Harry. It could be a suit of armour or a shield or anything that comes to your mind, but I want you to focus your mind on that when you cast the spell. You understand?" he asked and she nodded again. "Good." He moved to the trunk and looked at her. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she whispered, pulling her wand out of her robes and gripped it tightly, her blood chilled. "Let's do it."

Lupin nodded as he reached for the lid and pulled it open. Gwyn was sure that she went white when she saw Harry rise from the box, on his broom, a smile lit across his face. Her heart thudded in her chest.

"Concentrate, Gwyn, concentrate," Lupin warned her when he saw her expression. Gwyn took a deep, shuddering breath as she gripped her wand.

"_Riddikulus!_" she shouted, picturing a large bubble shield around him, protecting him from harm in her mind, but her spell came too late. A Bludger came out of nowhere and struck him in the chest. Harry's eyes went wide as a scream tore from Gwyn's mouth as she raced forward to help him, but Lupin grabbed hold of her, holding her back as the boggart faced him, turning into a silver orb and he banished it back into the trunk.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously. She nodded, her gaze fixed on where, a moment before, Harry had been lying on the ground, his arm twisted in a funny direction, his face contorted with pain, blood seeping from the edge of his mouth . . . "Do you want to continue?"

"Yes!" Gwyn blurted out. "I can't just stop now. I . . . I want to do this. I'm sorry, I panicked."

"Understandable," Lupin assured her, still with a frown on his face, as though not sure that this was the best idea. "All right, let's try it again." He released her and waved his wand at the trunk, releasing the boggart again. "Now, this time, concentrate."

Keeping her mind in place, Gwyn stood determinedly as the boggart, disguised as Harry, rose once again from the trunk and she raised her wand, pointing it directly at Harry, picturing the shield around him again.

This time, it worked. A large, blue bubble formed around him, shielding him from harm as a snake appeared out of nowhere, its poisonous fangs about to strike where Harry stood, but it couldn't penetrate the shield. Try though it might, it couldn't get through it.

"Hold it in place!" Lupin ordered her, sounding delighted. She gripped her wand with both hands, concentrating hard for the shield to stay in place, but her concentration slipped for one second and the shield dissolve around Harry, allowing the snake to strike.

"_Riddikulus!_" Lupin commanded before she could see what was going to happen. She was grateful for the return of the silver orb and he waved it back into the box. "Well done, Gwyn, very good!"

"Not good enough," Gwyn said miserably, thinking back to her dissolved shield. Usually, her Shield Charms were good . . .

"I didn't expect you to come out with one lesson and able to handle this," Lupin told her, handing her a piece of chocolate and she bit into it. "You're making a very good start. Shall we try again?"

Gwyn nodded as she finished the chocolate. "Yeah, let's give it another try," she said fiercely as she stood up, her blue eyes already glittering with determination to fight back at something that would cause her more nightmares that she already had.

--

As Gwyn struggled to fight her inner demons, both awake and asleep, she soon had little time to spend with Harry and Hermione, both of whom were swamped with homework and Harry with Quidditch practice and dementor lessons, the former of which he was using Gwyn's borrowed broom, a fact that Wood was greatly relieved of.

"It's a lot better than the school brooms," he told Gwyn ecstatically after hugging her tightly in gratitude, but she could tell he was disappointed at not being able to have a real, life Firebolt on the team.

Her lessons with Lupin were going better than she had planned on, though sometimes, she was still unable to save Harry. Sometimes, she wasn't able to save him in time and other times she was able to save him before he was attacked by something else. Truth be told, the lessons were giving her more nightmares than usual, but at least these she could fight. The ones with her mother she could only watch.

"You're doing remarkably, Gwyn," Lupin told her at the end of one of their lessons. "You're putting too much pressure on yourself. Facing your greatest fear for some wizards is the greatest challenge you can put them through, especially when it's the form that yours is. If it's any consolation, I think your mother would be proud of the effort you've put through." He placed a hand on her shoulder and she smiled faintly up at him.

"Thanks, Professor," she said as she stood up. "I'd better go; I've got loads of Arthimancy homework to do."

"I'll see you next week," Lupin called after her as she walked through the corridors, heading for the Gryffindor common room with her hands in her pockets, her thoughts on the form that her boggart had taken—this time, Harry had been attacked by a dragon and she'd given him a shield to protect himself.

Without warning, she was suddenly flung to the ground, having crashed into someone, and the wind was nearly knocked out of her as she moaned, massaging her side as she looked around for the source of her crash.

"Oh, great," she muttered as she got to her feet, still holding her side painfully, looking over at her cousin, who was getting to her feet as well.

"Watch where you're going, Swann!" Morgause hissed, her dark eyes filled with menace.

Gwyn felt the irritation fly through her as she glared right back at her. "You were the one who slammed into me," she pointed out, causing Morgause to bare her teeth. "I was just walking. No need to get huffy," she added, keeping her hand near her wand in case she needed to draw it quickly.

"Well, pathetic half-breeds should watch where they're walking and respect their superiors," Morgause countered. "But then, you're not very smart, are you? How can you be, with that filthy, polluted blood mixed in with our rich, noble blood, tainting it, polluting it, contaminating it? It's no wonder you don't know your place, with the filth of Muggles flowing through your veins. Your mother didn't know any better either, otherwise she wouldn't have wasted her time on filth. There were men more worthy of her, of better blood."

Gwyn's eyes had continued to narrow throughout this whole conversation and by the time that Morgause had started in on her mother, they were narrowed to slits. "Don't talk about my mother like that," she whispered, her voice shaking. "If the rest of the family thinks the same way you do, it's no wonder she left."

"Filthy, half-breed," Morgause taunted, walking past her. "Why don't you go sleep in the Owlery, since that's where you belong, with all of the animals?"

Closing her eyes, Gwyn slowly counted from ten to one backwards, letting her breath out as she did so, stopping herself from whipping out her wand and cursing Morgause. "Just walk away," she muttered to herself, so quietly that Morgause didn't have a hope of hearing it. "Just walk away, Gwyn."

But the second that she moved, she felt her Seer powers kick in, alerting her to the danger, and she threw herself sideways out of the way, causing the spell to hit a statue nearby.

Gasping with shock and coughing as dust caught in her throat, Gwyn struggled back to her feet, ready to grab her wand when she heard the sound of running footsteps, doubtlessly alerted by the noise. _Don't be Snape, don't be Snape, don't be Snape,_ Gwyn chanted in her head, but her hopes were dashed when the Potions Master rounded the corner, along with Professor McGonagall.

"What on earth is going on here?" McGonagall demanded, looking between the two cousins. "Miss Swann, what happened?"

"She tried to jinx me, Professor," Morgause said in a sickly sweet voice before Gwyn could speak.

"Is that true?" McGonagall asked, looking at Gwyn.

Shaking her head wildly, Gwyn answered, "I was just heading back to the common room when we ran into each other and then she started badmouthing my mother, trying to provoke me, and when I was about to walk away, she shot a curse at my back."

"I doubt that, Miss Toren is one of my best students," Snape sneered at her. Gwyn fought to keep her temper under control as McGonagall frowned.

"And Miss Swann has never attacked someone unless they attacked her first, Severus," she replied, waving her wand at the shattered statue. "Both of your wands, please," she requested. Gwyn frowned, but handed hers over to McGonagall, followed by Morgause. "_Priori Incantanem!_"

A ghost of a spell appeared out of Morgause's wand, the same one that had attacked Gwyn. McGonagall did the same to Gwyn's, revealing the _Ridikulus _spell.

"I was in boggart lessons with Professor Lupin," Gwyn explained hastily when she was met with two pairs of questioning eyes. "You can ask him."

"Indeed, I will," McGonagall assured her. "We'll sort this matter out later and if Professor Lupin confirms your story, Miss Swann, then you'll be fine. Otherwise, you both will have detention Friday night." Morgause scowled, looking away. "But for right now, both of you go back to your common room." She handed them their wands back and Gwyn hastily hurried away, not wanting to spend another minute with her cousin.

--

Thankfully, Lupin assured McGonagall the next day that she had indeed been with him for lessons, much to Snape's annoyance, and she was freed from the detention. Gwyn was grateful for this, but Morgause was positively livid by this, judging from the way she was glaring at Gwyn from across the Great Hall during meals.

Gwyn was working on an Arthimancy essay that night when there was suddenly a bunch of commotion coming from the portrait hole. Glancing up, she saw her friends at the centre of it and Harry was holding the Firebolt. Grinning ecstatically, she managed to push her way through towards them.

"Got it back?" she asked Harry, who was grinning happily as he nodded. "That's great, Harry!" Gwyn hugged him before nodding towards the pile that was hiding Hermione. "You should go talk to Hermione; she was really acting for the best."

Harry nodded, his expression changing to one of remorse as he gave the broomstick to Ron so he could take it upstairs before making his way to Hermione. She left them alone for a couple minutes before heading over. Now that the commotion had calmed down, Gwyn was able to make her way through the crowd without much trouble.

"I don't have to yank you two apart, do I?" she asked with a smile. Both Harry and Hermione smiled at her.

"What was all of that this morning with McGonagall, anyway?" Harry asked her as she took a seat near them. Hermione looked up at the turn of conversation, her expression worried.

Gwyn sighed. "I ran into my cousin last night on my way back to the common room and she tried to jinx me."

"WHAT?!" both Harry and Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah, it missed and hit a statue. McGonagall and Snape heard the noise and came running. I think I might've gotten detention if Lupin hadn't backed me up." Gwyn shook her head. "I'm beginning to think that Ron was right about my family."

Harry squeezed her hand sympathetically. "Look on the bright side, they can't be any worse than the Dursleys," he joked.

Just as she opened her mouth to reply, a strangled yell broke their conversation and Gwyn's head jerked towards the boys' dormitory, already on her feet as Ron came barrelling into the common room, his face white as the bed sheet that he was dragging.

"LOOK!" he shouted at Hermione as the common room stared at the quartet. "LOOK!"

"Ron, what—"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!" Gwyn looked at the sheet and her heart clenched in her chest as she saw the sheet was stained red. "BLOOD! HE'S GONE! AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?" Hermione shook her head, her face white, and Ron threw down several long ginger hairs that were the exact same colour as Crookshanks' fur.


	13. A Street Dog and An Intruder

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Thirteen: A Street Dog and an Intruder

Gwyn leaned her head back against the bleachers as she sat with Ron during Harry's Quidditch practice, watching the team prepare for the next game. It was the first time that they had seen him using the Firebolt and she was amazed at how fast and sharp the broom moved and how easily Harry fell into position.

Ever since Scabbers had been eaten or disappeared or whatever had happened, Ron and Hermione had maintained a mutual stony silence, making it difficult for any of them to talk to each other. It hadn't helped that Harry had taken Ron's side and tried to convince Hermione of the facts, but the only that had come of it was Hermione being angry with him too.

Staying out of the argument, Gwyn put on her poker face whenever the subject was mentioned and kept quiet until the subject was changed. Hermione had taken to staying in the library all the time, mostly to avoid Ron and also because she was taking more subjects than anyone and had lots more homework than anyone else.

"Can you believe how well it moves?" Ron asked reverently as he watched the Firebolt. "The speed, the turning . . ." He let out a dreamy sigh as he looked up at Harry in the sky, who was catching the Snitch at every turn.

"They're definitely improved since last time," Gwyn agreed as she sat with her head in her hands.

It was true; whether they were more determined to win because of Gryffindor's loss to Hufflepuff or because of the presence of the Firebolt, she wasn't sure, but they were playing better and flawlessly. There wasn't any room for improvement by the end of the practice. Gwyn was awe-struck by the synchronisation of their movements. Next to them, Madam Hooch, who had been overseeing practices for Harry's safety, had fallen asleep.

It was around twilight when Oliver finally dismissed the team and everyone except for Gwyn, Harry, Ron, and the sleeping Madam Hooch headed back up to the castle. Harry had offered Ron a chance to ride on the Firebolt in an attempt to get his mind off of Scabbers, so they were left alone while Ron clamoured onto the broomstick and flew into the air.

"Finally, some alone time," he said with a smile at Gwyn as he sat down next to her. "It's been a crazy couple of days."

"Tell me about it," Gwyn said as she pulled her legs underneath her, turning to look at him. "I think it's been a crazy year. Everybody seems to be arguing with each other for one thing or another."

"Yeah . . . but still, Gwyn, Ron's got a point—"

Gwyn held up her hand to stop him. "I'm staying out of this, Harry James Potter," she said sternly. "I am not getting involved in this stupid fight between Ron and Hermione, so I am not going to be discussing it with anyone. We clear?"

"Crystal," Harry assured her as he glanced upwards at Ron, who was almost a dot in the sky. "Gwyn?"

"Hmm?"

"How come you didn't tell me that you were getting boggart lessons from Lupin?"

Her blue eyes flew to meet his green ones. "How did you—?"

Harry shrugged. "He told me about it," he confessed. "During one of our last lessons, he mentioned that you were having trouble facing your fears and that you were getting lessons from him. He thought that you told me about it," he added up on seeing Gwyn's expression. "Why _didn't_ you tell me?"

Gwyn swallowed, looking away from his slightly hurt expression. "There's just some things that I'm not ready to share," she confessed. "My greatest fear is one of them. I just needed to keep it to myself for awhile. And to be honest, I don't know if or when I'll be ready to share if with you."

When exactly was she supposed to tell her best friend that her greatest fear was something happening to him? How was she supposed to look him in the eye and tell him that she was falling in love with him? They were best friends; in some ways, they were closer than friends or family. Gwyn wasn't stupid; she knew that romance sometimes complicated a friendship. She didn't want that to happen to her and Harry.

"You still could have told me," Harry told her, but his tone was less hurt now. "I wouldn't have asked if you didn't want me to know."

Gwyn nodded, forcing herself to look up at him. "I know, I'm sorry," she told him. He reached over and squeezed her hand tightly, reaching over with his free one to push a loose strand of her blonde hair out of her face.

"No more secrets?" he asked.

She smiled. "No more secrets," she assured him. "We tell each other the truth, even if it's just that we don't want to talk about it."

"Good." Harry glanced up at the sky; while they'd been talking, twilight had come and gone and night had fallen over them. Gwyn glanced up too, shivering slightly as she stood up. "We should probably get inside. It's getting pretty late."

"Yeah, plus Madam Hooch is probably gonna give us an earful as it is," Gwyn pointed out. As if woken by her name, the flying teacher woke up and immediately called Ron down telling them off and sending them off to the castle.

Gwyn was walking aimlessly after the boys as a glint of yellow eyes caught her attention and she froze.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, turning around to look at her. She shook her head, directing his attention towards what she had seen and both of the boys turned to look. Digging out his wand, Harry muttered, "_Lumos!_"

The wandlight fell across the grounds, lighting up the place where she had seen the eyes, revealing Crookshanks. But Gwyn was sure that she felt/sensed something else hiding there, hidden.

"See?" Ron growled as he threw a stone at Crookshanks, but he ran away before it hit. "She's still letting him wander about wherever he wants—probably washing down Scabbers with a couple of birds now . . ."

Keeping her mouth shut, Gwyn walked ahead of them, not wanting to get into an argument with Ron about Hermione. Harry and Ron trailed after her now, but she wasn't entirely sure that Crookshanks had been the only being there.

--

It was barely after dawn when Gwyn got up and headed out into the grounds. The sun was barely hovering over the horizon as she stepped out of the castle, drawing her cloak around her as she walked towards the place where she had felt the presence last night. Her blonde hair bounced off of her shoulders as she walked and she once again felt someone or something nearby, the same thing she'd felt before.

"Is someone there?" she asked tentatively as she stepped closer. "It's okay, you can come on out, I won't hurt you." Gwyn hesitantly headed towards the Forbidden Forest when a great big black dog came out of hiding and she gasped in surprise, stumbling backwards for a second.

The dog whined as he walked over to her, sniffing her carefully as he looked up at her with great yellow eyes. She swallowed, before holding her hand out to him, letting him come to her rather than the other way around.

After a long moment, the dog came closer and she scratched him behind the ears, relaxing slightly. "Hey, there, big guy, you're a friendly little fellow, aren't you?" she asked with a smile. "Do you belong to somebody? Do you live in Hogsmeade or something?" He had no collar, so she had no way of telling if he was just a street dog or his owner just didn't give him one.

But she guessed that it was the former, considering that he looked half-starved. Gwyn reached into her pocket, trying to find something for him, but all she had were a couple of the cookies left over from Christmas. "Here you go, boy," she crooned, holding them out to him.

With a joyful bark, he gobbled them all up happily, then looked up at Gwyn as though she had more to give him. "I'm sorry," Gwyn apologised. "That's all that I've got, but I can come by later, after breakfast. Maybe I can get some bacon or something." The dog's eyes practically lit up at the thought of bacon and she smiled. "But I can't stay for long later. My best friend's on the Quidditch team and he's gonna need all the support that he can get after the last match."

Almost as though he understood her, the dog licked her face affectionately and she petted him. "I'll come back later, I promise," she assured him before heading up to the castle, where the rest of the school was already starting to assemble.

She was halfway through breakfast when Harry and Ron showed up, along with the rest of their dormitory, carrying the Firebolt. Gwyn shook her head, but moved to make room for the broomstick. Harry slid into the seat next to her.

"You're enjoying seeing that look on Malfoy's face, aren't you?" she accused and he smiled.

"Guilty as charged," he acknowledged, still grinning. He watched her as she got a few biscuits, some bacon, and some sausage, piling it into a napkin and wrapping it up carefully. "Saving some for later?"

Gwyn shrugged. "There's a dog outside and he looks starved, so I was gonna take some to him," she explained. Harry's expression cleared and he shook his head at her kindness before returning to his own meal. People were already coming over to look at the Firebolt, including Malfoy.

"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" he sneered at Harry. "Got plenty of special features, hasn't it? Shame it doesn't come with a parachute—in case you get too near a dementor."

"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," Harry countered. "Then it could catch the snitch for you." Gwyn giggled at Malfoy's expression as he scowled, stalking away.

Gwyn caught sight of her cousin as Malfoy walked back over to the Slytherin table and Morgause's dark eyes fastened on Gwyn. After the incident in the hallway, she had worked overtime to avoid her cousin, but there was still the promise of vengeance in the elder cousin's eyes whenever she looked at Gwyn. And the blonde witch guessed it wasn't going to be pretty.

"You okay?" Harry asked quietly and she nodded, looking back at him. He squeezed her hand under the table and she laced their fingers together briefly before standing up.

"I'm gonna go give this to that dog outside," she told him. "I'll be back before the match starts, I promise."

Harry nodded, obvious noting the expression on her face as she hurried away from the hall and headed back outside. The dog was nowhere to be found, so she instead left the food right by where the tree that she'd found him at. And when she looked later, the food was completely gone.

--

Gwyn made it back just in time to say goodbye to Harry and wish him luck—he looked even more nervous than usual—before she joined Ron and Hermione in the stands, waiting for the match to begin. The rest of the school was moving into the stands as the players moved onto the field to begin the game.

"Was Harry okay when you saw him?" Hermione asked, looking anxious.

"He was fine," Gwyn assured her. "A little bit nervous, but he was fine." She glanced down at the Ravenclaw team that was clad in blue. "Who's the Ravenclaw Seeker, anyway?"

"Cho Chang," a Ravenclaw in front of her replied without turning around.

"Hmm." Gwyn looked down onto the field, raising her binoculars to her eyes to peer down at the teams that were boarding their broomstick. Cho Chang had to be the only girl, as she was the smallest person on the team and Seekers tended to be small and speedy. "She any good?"

"Are you kidding?" the Ravenclaw asked incredulously. "She's fantastic!" He had a blush on his face as he said that though.

Gwyn lowered her voice as she spoke to Hermione. "Is he talking about how her Quidditch skills are or the fact that he likes her face?" Hermione giggled, hiding it behind her hand, and Ron ignored the two of them as the players kicked off the ground and the game began.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to _Which Broomstick_, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship—" Gwyn laughed as she saw McGonagall tell the commenter Lee Jordan off until he finally started doing actually commentary. "Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for goal . . ."

Gwyn kept her eyes glued to the game, her heart beating frantically with anticipation as she kept watching Harry, who was more of a blur than anything else. Cho was having a hard time keeping up with him due to the speed of the Firebolt, but she managed to block him once and Harry had to turn sharply in order to avoid hitting her.

"HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!" Wood yelled at him. "KNOCK HER OFF OF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!"

She wasn't sure at what point she felt it, but Gwyn felt her seer powers strike. Looking down, she saw three dementors come onto the field.

Almost the second that she thought it, Gwyn shook her head to clear it. She didn't feel anything; no shouting in her head, no fog, no nothing. "Those aren't dementors," she murmured softly, getting to her feet. Hermione and Ron looked up at her and she shook her head. "I'll be right back, guys."

Heading through the stands, she headed over to the teachers' stand and pointed them out to McGonagall. "I don't think they're dementors, Professor," she added as McGonagall stood up. "I think it's Malfoy and some of his friends."

"No doubt," McGonagall said sharply, her lips thin. "Go back to your seat, Miss Swann; I'll take care of this."

Gwyn was heading back to her seat when the players were alerted to the alleged dementors. Harry had his wand whipped out before McGonagall could reach them and yelled, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

A silver-white stag appeared out of his wand, charging at the dementors and she gasped at the sight of it, gawking as it hit them and she jerked her attention back to where Harry was soaring through the air, grabbing the Snitch out of the air and gripping it tightly.

Later, Gwyn was sure that her ears had been somewhat damaged by the roars of the Gryffindors as they scrambled out of their seats, cheering and yelling and screaming as they streamed down to the field, engulfing the team. Gwyn managed to get to Harry and she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Congratulations!" she yelled over the shouts of the crowd and he laughed, hugging her back tightly, his green eyes sparkling with delight.

"The dementors didn't affect me at all!" he said over the squeals and shouting. "I didn't feel a thing!"

"That's because they weren't dementors," Gwyn explained, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the crowd. Harry frowned in bewilderment, but followed her as she led him over to where Malfoy, Morgause, Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint were getting a telling off from McGonagall. Lupin looked over at the two Gryffindors as they made their way over.

"That was quite some Patronus," Lupin told Harry, looking pleased and shaken. "You gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright."

"An unworthy trick!" McGonagall lectured the Slytherins. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

Ron was laughing as he came over to the two, grinning as they watched Malfoy try and escape from the robe. Morgause's eyes were filled with menace as she blasted the robe apart, tearing it to pieces. Without a word to anyone, she stalked off, but Gwyn heard her whisper, "Soon," too low for anyone to hear.

"Come on, guys!" George called to them. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Yeah, I could eat," Ron agreed happily.

"When can't you?" Gwyn teased as she walked together with two of her best friends and silently wondering when the trio was going to become a quartet once again.

--

Gwyn had to admit, Fred and George knew how to throw a party. With the knowledge of the Marauder's Map, they snuck into Hogsmeade and bought a bunch of candy and sweets and butterbeer for them.

She had already downed one bottle of butterbeer when she noticed Hermione sitting alone in the corner, doing her homework, as per usual. Nudging Harry, she indicated the bushy-haired witch and made her way over to her with Harry right behind her.

"Haven't you finished yet?" Gwyn inquired. Hermione had spent so much time working that she had barely even seen her the past couple of days. She was actually impressed that she had come to the match.

"Not yet," Hermione said tiredly, rubbing her eyes.

"Did you even come to the match?" Harry asked her as he sat down with Gwyn across from Hermione—well across from the pile. Hermione was sort of hidden behind it.

"Of course I did," Hermione answered, not looking up from her reading for Muggle Studies. "And I'm very glad that we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."

"Come on, Hermione, come and have some food," Harry tried to convince her with a careful glance towards Ron.

Hermione looked hysterical at the thought. "I can't, Harry. I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read! Anyway . . . _he_ doesn't want me to join in."

Gwyn didn't need to be a seer to predict Ron's poor timing. "If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them—"

If looks could kill, Ron would have been a dead man from the one that Gwyn shot him as Hermione ran to the dormitory in tears. Harry sighed and looked at Gwyn.

"I'll take Hermione," she volunteered and rose from her seat to head towards the dormitories. The moment that the door closed behind her, the noise from the party below cut off and she climbed up the stairs to their dormitory, finding Hermione sobbing into her pillow. Uncertain of what else to do, Gwyn moved over to the bed, sitting down and hugging her friend around the shoulders.

"It's okay, Hermione," she whispered, but knowing that it wasn't. Ron was just so pigheaded and he couldn't just look and see how badly he was hurting Hermione by his stubbornness.

Eventually, Hermione cried herself to sleep just as the rest of the Gryffindor third-year girls were climbing up the steps to go to bed. Parvati Patil looked at her curiously and Gwyn shook her head, mouthing, "_Ron._"

Nodding in understanding, Parvati headed to bed while Gwyn climbed downstairs, not quite ready to go to sleep just yet. With a sigh, she took a seat at the one Hermione had occupied several hours before and leaned her head back, trying to figure out what to do about Ron and Hermione. This stupid fight had gone on long enough; they both were grown up enough to know that fighting over pets wasn't worth it.

Even though she didn't feel tired, Gwyn must've been more drowsy than she'd thought, because the next thing that she knew, she heard shouting and a bloodcurdling scream coming from the boys' dormitory.

Gwyn woke with a start, falling sideways out of her chair and she could've sworn that she heard someone run past her and out of the common room before she looked up.

"What on earth?" she moaned as she got to her feet, hearing commotion coming from the boys' dormitories as Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan came from their dormitory and more Gryffindors were following them, alerting by the noise. "What's going on?" she asked, directing the question at Harry just as Fred appeared.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" he asked brightly.

"Everyone back upstairs!" Percy ordered as he came hurrying into the common room.

"Perce—Sirius Black!" Ron tried to explain. He sounded weak. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

Gwyn went very still as she looked at Harry for confirmation, but he shook his head, looking worried.

"Nonsense!" Percy protested, pale. "You had too much to eat, Ron—had a nightmare—"

"I'm telling you—"

"Now, really, enough's enough!" McGonagall had come into the common room, looking furiously at the group at large. "I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorise this, Professor!" Percy objected. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare—"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE! PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he have possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Gwyn was down here," Percy offered, looking towards her now. "Gwyn, did you see anything?"

Feeling unnerved as the attention was brought upon her, Gwyn swallowed. "I don't know," she confessed. "I was asleep, but when Ron yelled, I—I thought that I heard someone running through the common room. I didn't see anything, though."

McGonagall looked concerned and worried upon hearing this. "You should ask Sir Cadogan," Gwyn suggested, pointing towards the portrait hole. "Ask him if he saw him."

Apparently, this was a good suggestion, because McGonagall headed outside and everyone held their breath, listening. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!"

Gwyn sucked in her breath as she looked in horror at Harry, the realisations hitting her in full. He looked just as stunned, if not more.

"You—you did!" McGonagall exclaimed. "But—but the password!"

"He had 'em!" Sir Cadogan explained, sounding proud. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

Gwyn felt like she might be sick as McGonagall came back, her face white. "Which person," she said shakily, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

Her blue eyes flew over to where Neville was standing as he rose his hand into the air, shaking like a leaf, and Gwyn closed her eyes, suddenly more afraid than ever for the safety of her best friend.


	14. An Unexpected Friend

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Fourteen: An Unexpected Friend

The story of what had happened in Gryffindor Tower soon spread through Hogwarts like a wildfire, especially since an investigation of the castle was underway. Gwyn hadn't expected them to find Black; no, he seemed to be well-adept at getting himself out of sticky situations. What she didn't know was why she still believed that there was something wrong with the situation.

She was well aware of the fact that he was the sole person to escape Azkaban.

She was well aware of the fact that he was trying to kill her best friend.

She was well aware of the fact that he had launched an attack on the Fat Lady at Halloween.

She was well aware of the fact that he had entered Gryffindor Tower and had almost killed another one of her friends before going on to Harry's bed.

All of these things she knew perfectly well and despite all of these reasons and many more, Gwyn couldn't bring herself to believe that Black was entirely guilty of the crimes that had been committed in his name. Why hadn't he just shut up Ron before going over to Harry's bed?

Harry pointed out that he would've had a hard time getting out of Hogwarts if he had lingered, but Gwyn wasn't so sure. Maybe it was her seer powers or maybe she was just crazy, but there was something else going on.

Meanwhile, all around the castle, security was doubling. Sir Cadogan had been returned to his place on the seventh floor and the Fat Lady had returned, but now they had to walk past security trolls whenever they went back to the Tower. Gwyn tried to avoid going back to the Tower except at night, carrying everything that she needed for that day so she wouldn't have to walk past them. The smell kind of got to her.

She felt sorry for Neville though. Apart from being banned from Hogsmeade and forbidden from knowing the passwords, he had received a Howler from his grandmother, who shrieked for the entire Great Hall to hear about he had shamed their family.

That same day that he received it, Harry had gotten a letter from Hagrid, who invited the three of them down to his place for tea. Upon arriving, Gwyn saw a very terrible suit hanging from his wardrobe and immediately remembered that the hearing for Buckbeak was coming up. Hermione had been doing some research in the library for it with some help from Gwyn, but she hadn't been doing nearly as much as the bushy-haired witch.

"I got something' ter discuss with you two," Hagrid said seriously. "Not Gwyn so much, but yeh should still be doin' more than yeh are."

Gwyn immediately knew what he was talking about, just by the cryptic words. "Hey, this is between him—" she pointed at Ron, "and Hermione. I'm not getting in the middle of this."

"What about her?" Ron grumbled.

"She's in a righ' state, that's what. She's bin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Chris'mas. Bin feelin' lonely. Firs' yeh weren' talking to her because o' the Firebolt, now yer not talkin' to her because her cat—"

"Ate Scabbers!" Ron said angrily.

"Because her cat acted as all cats do," Hagrid corrected. "She's cried a few times, yeh know. Goin' through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more'n she can chew, if yeh ask me, all the work she's tryin' ter do. Still found time ter help me with Buckbeak's case, mind. . . . She's found some really good stuff fer me . . . reckon he'll stand a good chance now. . . ."

"Hagrid, we should've helped as well—sorry—" Harry said weakly, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"I'm not blamin' yeh! Yeh've got enough ter be gettin' on with. I've seen yeh practicin' Quidditch ev'ry hour o' the day an' night—but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two'd value yer friend more'n broomsticks or rats. Tha's all." Hagrid shook his head. "Really upset, she was, when Black nearly stabbed yeh, Ron. She's got her heart in the right place, Hermione has, an' you two not talkin' to her—"

"If she'd just get rid of that cat, I'd speak to her again!" Ron was angry. "But she's still sticking up for it! It's a maniac, and she won't hear a word against it! Tabby never went after Scabbers and he's known Scabbers for nearly three years!"

"Yeah, but I got Tabby when he was a kitten, just a baby," Gwyn pointed out patiently. "I was able to teach him what was right and wrong. It would be like your mum and dad taking some kid off the streets, about eleven or twelve, and trying to teach him morals. It's not as easy as it seems."

"People can also be a bit stupid abou' their pets," Hagrid added wisely. Gwyn chuckled as the conversation moved away from Hermione and onto Quidditch.

--

The following weekend was another Hogsmeade weekend. Not in the mood to deal with Ron's complaining and moaning about Hermione and Hermione not even going to Hogsmeade, Gwyn wandered through the shops alone, sitting alone at Three Broomsticks and drinking a butterbeer as she read a book she'd picked up at the bookstore when a deep, polite voice asked, "Is this seat taken?"

Gwyn looked up to see a fourth-year Slytherin standing awkwardly near her. He had a pleasant looking face with dark locks that hung casually into his deep, grey eyes that held a hint of mischievousness in it. "No, go ahead," she said with a shrug, gesturing to the seat. He gave her a smile before sliding into the seat across from her.

"Good book?" he asked, gesturing towards the open volume she had in front of her.

"Not bad," Gwyn answered, surprised at his polite tone. "They've got a pretty good selection on Charms books at the bookstore a couple blocks from here." She paused. "I'm Gwyn Swann."

"I know." He grinned at her expression. "It's kind of hard for people not to know who you are with the crowd that you hang with. I mean, with Potter and Granger and now that Weasley's got people flouncing around him since that incident with Black, you're pretty famous around the school." Gwyn chuckled, conceding his point. "Tristan Bennett."

"Nice to meet you, Tristan," Gwyn said, smiling at him. It was strange to see a Gryffindor and a Slytherin talking in such polite terms, but not all of them had to be like Malfoy.

"So, Gwyn, where are you friends at?" Tristan queried, taking a look around, as though he expected them to pop up out of nowhere and start lecturing about hanging out with a Slytherin. Which, if Ron knew, he probably would. Thankfully, he had headed over to Zonko's or something. He was being extremely vague, which made Gwyn worry.

"They're not here." Gwyn shrugged. "Ron and Hermione are having some sort of a fight and Harry doesn't have permission to come." Tristan nodded in understanding. "Not that I'm complaining, but why exactly are you talking to me? This is the first polite conversation that I've had with a Slytherin since I've started here."

"Well, the other Slytherins don't exactly like me very much," Tristan admitted as he cast a quick glance at a few of them, eyeing the two suspiciously. "They think I'm . . . oh, what's the word for it . . . worthless?"

"Half-blood?" Gwyn guessed.

"Worse," Tristan replied smoothly. "Muggle-born." Gwyn choked on her butterbeer as she took a sip.

"In _Slytherin_?!" she managed to say once she had gotten a hold of her coughing. Tristan patted her on the back as he nodded. "Okay, now I didn't see that one coming. Wow . . . that's . . . beyond comprehension. I didn't think that I'd ever hear that one."

"Well, not all Slytherins are like Death Eaters," Tristan pointed out. "I mean, there's a lot of them that are, but some are just in it because they have a lot of ambition. Take Lindsey Harrison, for example," he added, nodding to a redheaded girl at the counter. "Slytherin, fifth-year. Her parents are pretty high up on the blue blood wizarding society, but her greatest wish is to become Minister of Magic one day.

"Uh . . . let's see . . . Brian Schultz," he said, looking towards a brunette boy around Gwyn's age, maybe older. "He's in his third-year. Dad married a Muggle and his grandparents cut them off, but took pity on their half-breed grandson." He said this with a hint of disgust in his voice. "He wants to run his own business, possibly as a restaurant or selling potion ingredients.

"Hmm . . . Amy Lawrence," he added, gesturing towards a blonde girl with her arm around a taller, brunette guy that had a vague expression on his face. "Born to one of the wealthiest wizarding families around and while her family would like her to settle down with a nice pure-blood, she would rather go into the Ministry, hopefully the Department of Magical Sports and Games, and run it one day."

Gwyn stared at him in amazement and he shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with Slytherin. In fact, I think that part of the problem is that Slytherins are set apart from the rest of the school. Maybe that's why so many of them turn out to be bad."

"Or maybe it's just hereditary," Gwyn suggested.

"You don't believe that," Tristan said flatly. She blinked. "If you did, then you wouldn't be in Gryffindor. You wouldn't have followed your mum's path and chose to be friends with those who were supposed to be your inferiors. You'd be in Slytherin and treating everyone like they were beneath you."

Gwyn felt something flash through her mind, but it went by so quickly that she wasn't sure what it was. "Sounds like something I would say," she said after a long moment. "So . . . what about your parents? What do they do?"

Tristan's mouth twitched slightly and he looked down. "I wouldn't know. I was raised at an orphanage." Gwyn frowned in sympathy. "Apparently, I was dropped off there by a man, my father I suppose, and told them that my name was Tristan Bennett. I'm not even sure if that's my real name or not. I don't know who my parents are, don't know why they abandoned me, I don't even know if I'm really Muggle-born. Maybe one of my parents _was _a witch or wizard, I don't know."

"Maybe you'll find out one day," Gwyn offered.

"Yeah, maybe," Tristan said with a sigh. "And maybe when I find out, I'm gonna wish that I didn't."

"Or maybe not," Gwyn said gently. "Maybe they're gonna be wonderful. Maybe you're going to be glad that you know. Maybe they always wanted you, they just got lost."

Tristan's mouth turned upwards into a smile. "Are you sure that you're only thirteen?" he asked. Gwyn laughed, her blue eyes sparkling. "I don't have to ask about your mum; pretty much everybody knows about Aurora Swann. But how about your dad?"

Gwyn looked down, images of her dad getting married the past summer flashing through her mind, along with the one of the day he had thrown her out of her own house, to be living in the streets, if Madeline hadn't taken her in.

"My dad doesn't really like the whole magic thing," she admitted. "I live with one of my mum's friends. Things are . . . better than they used to be, I suppose. He doesn't want to have anything to do with me anymore, but he isn't trying to push me and my stepbrother apart. And that's something."

"You've got a stepbrother?"

"Yeah, Evan Taylor. He's okay. Pretty thrilled with the whole magic part of it, once I finally got around to telling him."

Tristan looked distracted for a second, but then he smiled. "I think that's great, that you're able to confide in family. Kind of sucks about your dad, though. I guess sometimes families suck." Gwyn smiled and nodded just as Morgause and Alaric walked through the door, heading towards the counter.

"You know, they really do," she said with a sigh. "I'm gonna head out of here, okay? Go walk around a little bit."

Tristan glanced behind him and saw who she had looked at, his eyes raising in understanding. "You don't mind if I come with, do you? It's nice to talk to someone who doesn't treat you like dirt."

"Not at all."

Gwyn and Tristan headed out towards the door, but Morgause's words stopped her in her tracks.

"Draco swears he saw the whole thing. He and his friends were up at the Shrieking Shack when all of this weird stuff started happening. Someone was throwing mud at them and sludge and then they threw a stick at them. And then he saw it."

"What?"

"Harry Potter's head. Sitting in midair."

The blood drained from Gwyn's face as she stared back at Morgause, only for a minute. "Oh, boy," she muttered.

"Unbelievable," Tristan muttered. "Some of the things that she can come up with, it's unreal. I mean, who'd believe something like that?"

Gwyn let out a weak laugh. "Yeah, it's pretty unbelievable. Uh . . . I'm sorry, I have to go check on something. Excuse me," she added, leaving a confused Tristan behind as she raced out the door, heading for the castle.

Racing through the gates, she sped across the grounds, keeping an eye out for any of her friends. She didn't have to look for very long. Not a second than she passed through the doors, Gwyn saw Harry, Ron, and Professor Lupin walking towards her. "Thank goodness!" she said, relieved, but she kept her mouth shut about what she had heard. "What happened?"

"Long story," Harry muttered before looking at Lupin. "Professor, I—"

"I don't want to hear explanations," Lupin replied, casting a look around the four of them. "I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr. Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it's a map," he added to the trio's expressions. "I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, _astounded_ that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happened the last time a student left information about the castle lying around. And I can't let you have it back, Harry."

Harry, to her great surprised, didn't even argue. Instead, he asked, "Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?"

"Because . . . because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of the school. They'd think it extremely entertaining."

"You know them?" Gwyn asked, glancing at the Marauder's Map that was in Lupin's hands. She guessed what must've happened. Harry must've run back to school, caught by Snape, and Lupin had bailed him out of trouble. She wasn't sure who she wanted to throttle first: Harry, Ron, or Snape. Gwyn wanted to slap all three of them.

Lupin nodded. "We've met," he answered, turning to look seriously at her best friend, who was looking guilty as he looked back at Lupin. "Don't expect me to cover up for you again, Harry. I cannot make you take Sirius Back seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the dementors draw near you would have had more effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive. A poor way to repay them—gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks."

Without another word, Lupin walked away from them and Gwyn turned to look at her friends, hands planting on her hips. "You two," she said in an annoyed voice, "are the most daft, moronic idiots that I have ever come across. I hope that you are well aware of that and that you aren't gonna be trying this again anytime soon." She was looking at Harry more than Ron, but both of them nodded miserably. "Good, because I swear, right now, I could throttle the both of you and think nothing of it. You two are such idiots!"

Turning on her heel, she headed up to the common room, knowing that they would be following her shortly, but stopped when she saw Hermione walking towards them. "Hermione?" she asked, seeing the bushy-haired witch's expression. "What's wrong?"

"Come to have a good gloat?" Ron wanted to know. The boys had come up behind her and seen Hermione. "Or have you just been to tell on us?"

"No," Hermione whispered. Gwyn realised that she was holding a letter and her hands were trembling slightly. She knew, she realised, a second before Hermione said it. "I just thought you ought to know . . . Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed."


	15. A Great Day

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Fifteen: A Great Day

It was unbelievable, but Gwyn knew that the Committee wasn't going to change their minds even at the appeal. Hagrid was allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts, but in confinement. Between her grandfather and Lucius Malfoy, there wasn't any hope for Buckbeak. Even Hagrid had lost any hope of survival for his beloved hippogriff when they talked to him the first chance that they got, in Care of the Magical Animals class. The new restrictions on the castle prevented them form talking him any other time.

"S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up for me, Hermione. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' did his bit and Cormack Toren agreed with him an' then the Committee jus' did exac'ly what they were telling 'em to do. . . ."

"There's still the appeal!" Ron protested. "Don't give up yet, Hagrid! We're working on it."

But Gwyn already knew that there was no hope. With Lucius frightening the Committee, they would do whatever he told them to and worse. The only way to save Buckbeak would be to set him free and they would know that it was Hagrid and he'd go to jail. Much as Gwyn hated to admit it, right now they had to choose the lesser of two evils. The only thing that they could do was help Hagrid through this.

"S'no good, Ron," Hagrid said miserably as the class ended and he walked them back to the castle. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure that the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that. . . ." He buried his face into his tablecloth handkerchief before hurrying back to his cabin.

Gwyn would've gone after him, but Malfoy's words stopped her. "Look at him blubber!" She turned to glare at the blond Slytherin, who was smirking in malice. "Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic? And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

What happened next was imprinted in their memories for years to come. Hermione strode forward and punched Malfoy straight in the nose with all of her strength. He stumbled backwards, gripping his nose painfully. Gwyn could barely even move, she was so shocked.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed when she finally managed to find her voice. "What are you doing?"

But Hermione ignored her as she moved to punch Malfoy again. "Don't you _dare_ call Hagrid pathetic, you foul, evil little cockroach!" she shouted and Ron grabbed her arm to stop her from punching Malfoy again. "Get off, Ron!"

By this time, she had pulled out her wand and Gwyn pulled out her own, possibly to stop them and possibly to join Hermione, she wasn't quite sure which one at the moment.

"Come on," Malfoy said quickly to Crabbe and Goyle and they fled towards the direction of the Slytherin common room, leaving Gwyn, Harry, and Ron stared in amazement at Hermione, none of them able to believe what had just happened.

"Harry," Hermione said in a strained and high-pitched voice, "you had better beat him in the Quidditch final! You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!" None of them had anything to say to this and both boys were at loss for words as Gwyn shook her head to clear it, looking down at her watch.

"We're due in Charms," she said, as she looked at the group. "We'd better go or we're going to be late."

But even when they arrived at Charms class, they were two minutes late and what's more, Hermione had vanished from sight. But there was no way to go back to look for her now that class had begun, so they reluctantly dove into learning Cheering Charms and by the time that class was finished, they were so filled with bliss that they couldn't exactly worry about their friend, not until at the end of lunch and the effects wore off.

"Where could she be?" Ron asked as they headed up to Gryffindor Tower. "You don't think Malfoy did something to her, do you?" He directed this question more at Gwyn than Harry. "Come on, what's the point of having all those freaky seer powers if you can't use them when you need them?"

Gwyn frowned at him. "I can't just turn them on and off, Ron. You know that," she said sternly as they climbed into the portrait hole. "Besides, she's here," she added, finding Hermione half-sitting, half-lying at one of the tables, fast asleep, an Arthimancy book lying open in front of her. "Hermione? Hermione, wake up," she said, shaking the bushy-haired witch awake.

"Wh—what?" Hermione started as she woke up, looking around at them, weariness and exhaustion evident in her eyes. "Is it time to go? W—which lesson have we got now?"

"Divination, but it's not for another twenty minutes," Harry answered. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"

"What? Oh, no!" Hermione looked horrified. "I forgot to go to Charms!"

"How could you forget?" Harry asked her. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom."

"Oh, I don't believe it!" Hermione cried as she scrambled to her feet, trying to compose herself and failing miserably. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was just thinking about him and I lost track of things!"

Gwyn sighed as she looked at her friend sympathetically; the strain of all the work she was putting on was starting to show. She had dark circles under her eyes and exhaustion was evident in them. Not to mention, she had just missed one of her favourite classes.

"You know what, Hermione?" Ron said as he looked at the Arthimancy book that Hermione had been lying on. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."

"No, I'm not!" Hermione insisted as she tried to smooth out her hair fruitlessly and looking for her bag in the mess of stuff that was lying around her. "I just made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry . . . I'll see you in Divination!"

Looking around at the boys as Hermione vanished from the common room, Gwyn asked rhetorically, "Is there any point in trying to ask her how she's also going to be with me in Arthimancy?"

"Nope," Ron answered as they collected their books and went their separate ways.

Sure enough, Hermione was in Arthimancy as well as in Divination when she asked later, but by now, Gwyn had given up trying to ask her about her impossible schedule. So she just sat there and scribbled notes as they went through the lesson. Later, when she was meeting up with Harry and Ron after their classes, she found that their lesson had been more interesting.

"Hermione walked out of Divination, how was Arthimancy?" Ron asked rhetorically as she fell into step next to them.

Gwyn stared at Ron, then towards Harry for confirmation. "Wait a minute, Hermione did what?"

"Walked right out of Divination," Harry explained. "We were studying crystal balls when Professor Trelawney was about to predict my death—again—and Hermione went off on her about how ridiculous the Grim was. Trelawney said that she didn't have the Divination talents and then just walked right out of class." Gwyn's mouth was open as she stared at Harry in amazement. "Where is Hermione, anyway?"

Shaking her head, Gwyn looked around for the first time for Hermione and noticed she was missing. "Who knows?" she sighed. "Wow . . . I really wish I'd signed up for Divination." Ron laughed and Harry chuckled. "What's with Hermione today? First she punched Malfoy, then she walked out on Trelawney . . . what's next?"

--

Pretty soon, the Easter holidays were coming down upon them, but they were anything but relaxing. With the upcoming exams, they had so work piled upon them that most of the holidays were either spent in the common room or in the library. Gwyn barely had time to see any of her friends, especially Hermione, who was the first one up and the last one down.

But homework wasn't the only thing on everyone's minds. The final Quidditch match was going to take place right after the holidays between Gryffindor and Slytherin. There hadn't been a match that had been highly anticipated since probably Harry's first match. Gwyn knew she couldn't wait for it to be over. It seemed like everywhere he was going, Slytherins were trying to trip him or something.

The incidents kept making her flash back to her lessons with Lupin and she kept visualising him being tripped and falling down the stairs, but she started imagining a bubble on the bottom of the stairs, catching him and holding him safely and that seemed to help. But she knew she would be extremely relieved when it was over—and even happier, if they won. It would be the first time in Gryffindor history that they'd won since Ron's brother Charlie was the Gryffindor Seeker.

By the time that the evening before the match rolled around, everyone was in high nerves, the tension in the atmosphere so thick that Gwyn could've cut it with a knife. Hermione had abandoned her books, unable to concentrate due to her nerves and the anxiety in the room.

Gwyn, Hermione, Harry, and Ron were all sitting in their usual corner, just talking amongst themselves. Harry looked so nervous that Gwyn thought that he might be sick.

"You're going to be fine," Hermione assured him.

"You've got a _Firebolt_!" Ron pointed out.

"Just try to relax," Gwyn suggested. "Think about something happy. That's what I do when I'm nervous." Harry gave her a small smile as he squeezed her hand and she felt some of his tension release as he held her hand.

But at that moment, Wood had stood up and shouted to the Quidditch players, "Team! Bed!" Harry let go of Gwyn's hand and reluctantly stood up, heading towards his dormitory while Gwyn stayed out with Hermione and Ron, but they too were getting too nervy and so finally, they too went up to bed.

Gwyn crawled into bed and pulled her mother's journal out, turning to where she had left off and she laid her head onto her pillow as she began reading her mother's words.

_April 13__th__, 1976_

_I don't believe it. _

_It just happened to me, I was right there when it happened, and I still can't believe what happened. _

_Okay, Aurora, slow down and breathe. Start off at the beginning. _

_I was walking to Potions with Lily when I felt this sort of . . . knowing sensation, just flowing through me. I don't know how to describe it, but it was like I knew something was going to happen a moment before it did. And I knew that Lily was in danger._

_The next thing that I knew, I was on the ground and Sirius was right next to me, asking me if I was okay. He looked so worried and serious that I asked him if he was starting to live up to his name. That managed to get him to laugh and Lily looked relieved as they helped me to my feet, but then I felt that weird sensation again and I yanked Lily out of the way, pulling her towards the wall. _

_Sure enough, not one minute later, one of the statues came falling down, right where we had been standing. If we had been where we were, then all of us would've been crushed. It was Peeves' idea of a sick, twisted joke. Someone needs to find that poltergeist a therapist. _

_But that's not the most shocking part. When I was called up to Professor Dumbledore's office and I explained what happened and what I felt, he told me that it was quite possible that I might be a seer. This didn't seem like the usual kind, going into trances and spewing prophecies and all that junk and Dumbledore explained that there were two kinds of seers. The kind that he thinks I am merely has a sort of sixth sense about when things are going to happen. They kind of "feel" it when something odd is going to happen. And they also can have visions that magnify themselves in dreams. _

_I'm starting to wonder if my dreams have always been clairvoyant. Like the ones that I've had of my daughter. Am I really seeing the little girl that I'm destined to have?_

_I don't know what to think, but I do know that clairvoyance has been common in my family for centuries. Of course, it hasn't happened for awhile. The last Toren who had the Sight was my great-great-great grandmother Vivien and that was before the turn of the century, so it's been awhile. Oh, god, if my father finds out about this, I'll never be able to escape from my family. _

_The only two people who know about this besides Dumbledore are Lily and Sirius. I won't tell anyone else. If anybody finds out—if Gillian or my parents find out—then I won't be able to escape from my family. And I can't stay there. If I stay, then they'll suffocate me until they kill me or worse. _

_This secret will stay with me. _

_Forever._

--

Gwyn woke up early the next morning, staring at the ceiling above her as Tabby nuzzled her, licking her nose affectionately.

She groaned, pushing Tabby off of her. "All right, all right, I'm up already," she muttered darkly as she climbed out of bed, quietly to keep her roommates from waking up and she retrieved some clothes and headed into the bathroom to change, coming out a few moments later fully dressed and headed out of the common room and into the castle.

Unsurprisingly, the castle was quiet and still, even so early in the morning. Gwyn liked it like this; she liked it so quiet and still. She felt as though nothing could disturb the perfect tranquillity that was Hogwarts Castle in the early morning.

Except, of course, when hundreds of students came piling out of the dormitories, as they did not even five minutes later. Gwyn grimaced, but followed the fellow student into the Great Hall, slipping into one of the seats as the Gryffindor team appeared and the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables exploded into applause. Gwyn ate as fast as she could as Wood urged the team to eat before herding them outside.

Quick as she could, she hurried out into the Great Hall. "Harry!" she called after her best friend and he stopped, letting the others go on without him.

"What's up?" he asked her.

She didn't say anything, just hugged him tightly. Gwyn could sense his surprise, but he hugged her back before looking at her in confusion. "Good luck," she told him. "And be careful."

"I always am," he pointed out.

"Here." Gwyn pressed her mother's necklace into the palm of his hand and he looked down at it before looking up at her in confusion.

"Gwyn, this was your mum's, I can't—"

"It's for good luck," Gwyn told him, closing his fist around it. "I'll be asking for it back after the match, but I want you to keep it for right now." She smiled at him and he gave her a smile back before tucking the necklace into his pocket. "Stay safe, Harry."

"I will," he promised her before hugging her again and hurrying up to catch up with the team. She watched him go before walking out onto the steps, staring out into the clear day.

Just as clear as the sky was, she didn't sense any impending doom luring them in. Even though she didn't have control over her abilities, Gwyn didn't think that anything was going to happen. It was going to be a perfect day.

Gwyn joined Ron and Hermione when they headed out onto the Quidditch field and into the bleachers. Maybe it was just her putting her books down for once, but Gwyn thought that Hermione looked a lot less tired than she had the day before.

As they climbed up into their seats, Gwyn heard a voice said, "Hey, Gwyn." Turning around in her seat, she saw Tristan climbing into the seat next to her.

"Hi, Tristan," she said, actually pleased to see him. She noticed Ron giving him a dirty look and Hermione sending her a curious glance. "Guys, this is Tristan Bennett. Tristan, this is Ron and Hermione."

"Hey, guys, how you doing?" Tristan said with a pleasant smile towards them. "So how've you been?"

"Apart from all the homework the teachers have been piling on, pretty good," Gwyn answered before looking over at him curiously. "What are you, stalking me or something?"

"Please, I sit on whichever side isn't Slytherin," Tristan said with a shrug. "Makes for wicked controversy. Besides, I sit with the rest of the Slytherins, chances are I'm gonna get beat up. Some of them have a very mean punch. Plus, I'm betting on you guys' team."

"Really?" Hermione asked interestedly.

"Anything to wipe the smirk off of that twerp Malfoy's face," Tristan assured her. He seemed oblivious to the stares that most, if not all, of the Gryffindor side spectators were sending his way. "Besides, the chances of us winning without your friend in a coma are less than zero."

Gwyn smiled wryly; the last time that Gryffindor had been in the finals, Harry had been in the hospital in a coma because they had gone after the Sorcerer's Stone.

At that moment, the players started coming onto the field and the mounted their brooms. Gwyn cheered with the rest of the school as they launched into the air and the game began.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia!" Lee Jordan, as usual, was commenting with his usual style. "Argh, no—Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field—WHAM!—nice Bludger work by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on Angelina—nice swerve around Montague—_duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger!_—SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

"Yes!" Gwyn grinned, but turned to a scowl as Angelina was nearly knocked out of the air by Flint as he smashed into her.

Fred retaliated by throwing his Beater club at Flint, who hit his broomstick handle by the force and was bleeding violently. "That will do!" Madam Hooch, the referee, shrieked. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to _their_ Chaser!"

"Come on, Alicia!" Lee chanted. "YES, SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!" Gwyn watched with anticipation as Flint then took the Quaffle for a penalty shot, but to her relief, Wood saved the shot, throwing the Quaffle back into the game.

"Gryffindor in possession, no Slytherin in possession—no!—Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field—THAT WAS DELIBERATE!" Montague had blocked Katie and grabbed her head instead of the Quaffle, causing her to do a cartwheel in midair, but at least she managed to stay on her broom as well as gain another penalty. "THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING—"

Gwyn, even in the middle of the crowd, caught sight of the Snitch glittering at the other end of the feel and looked towards Harry worriedly. If the Snitch was caught now, if Harry caught it now, then they would win the match, but lose the Cup. "Come on, Harry, think fast," she whispered.

Sure enough, he zoomed at the other end of the field, tricking Malfoy and the Slytherin Beaters who raced to intercept him. Harry flew upwards, causing them to slam into one another.

"Ha, haa!" Lee roared in laughter. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again as Johnson takes the Quaffle—Flint alongside her—poke him in the eye, Angelina!—it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke—oh, no—Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save—" But Wood got there too late and Flint had thrown the Quaffle into the hoop, causing Slytherin to cheer and Tristan groaned next to Gwyn.

"What happened to House spirit?" she asked him with a wry smile.

"It got crushed first-year," he said dryly with a grin her way. Gwyn shook her head as she turned her attention back towards the game, which was by far, the ruthless, slimiest, unsporting game that she had ever attended. And she was slightly ashamed to say that it wasn't just the Slytherins; the Gryffindors were retaliating just as badly.

But on the bright side, they were gaining up in points. By the time that the Snitch had reappeared, they were up fifty points, which would win them the match and the Cup, but Malfoy pulled another trick by grabbing hold of the Firebolt and pulling it back, keeping Harry from getting to the Snitch.

"Look!" Tristan was laughing as he pointed towards the teachers' stands and Gwyn saw McGonagall shouting furiously at Malfoy.

Alicia missed the penalty she was so angry and the Slytherins gained another ten points when they got the Quaffle, but Gryffindor was still in the lead by fifty points when Angelina scored again, making it eighty-twenty.

At that moment, the Snitch reappeared, but Malfoy had seen it first. "Come on, Harry!" Ron screamed as Harry raced towards the Snitch, desperation on his face as he flew faster and faster until he had reached Malfoy and knocked his arm out of the way just in time to grasp the Snitch.

Gwyn was sure that a bomb had exploded in the stadium from the screams and roars and cheers. Her throat was so dry that she could hardly talk.

Laughing with joy and exhilaration, Gwyn climbed out of the seats and joined the crowd as they swarmed onto the field, managing to make it to Harry and threw her arms around him. He swirled her around, laughing with his green eyes sparkling as he was pulled away from her and hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd with the rest of the team, but she just laughed as she waved at him with Ron and Hermione as they were delivered onto the stands.

Dumbledore was smiling as he stood there with the enormous Quidditch Cup and Gwyn smiled, tears pouring out of her eyes.

At that moment, there was nothing but happiness existing there. They didn't have to worry about lunatic mass murderers who may or may not have been innocent, they didn't have to worry about anything. At that moment, all they were was just kids. Kids who were enjoying the greatest day of their lives.


	16. An Execution

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Sixteen: An Execution

For the week following the Quidditch Cup, the entire school—except for Slytherin—was in high spirits. Gwyn was giddy and happy and thrilled that they had finally won the House Cup and it escalated every time that she saw Malfoy or Morgause. The looks on their faces were priceless and she couldn't help but smirk at them.

But eventually, the school had to return to its normal, everyday workload with exams approaching and the gang was forced to remain inside, going through their books and notes that they had copied down throughout the year. Harry and Ron's, of course, were Hermione's as they had just copied her notes instead of using their own. Gwyn pointed out to them that if they still weren't talking to Hermione, they'd be in major trouble.

After finding out how horribly her grades in Herbology were going, Gwyn went to Neville, not wanting to bother Hermione since she still had more to do than anyone, and asked for his help in Herbology, which he was all too happy to do, with some help from her in Potions. Gwyn, after countless hours of studying with Neville, was starting to get on a level where she would at least get a decent grade. As an added bonus, she thought that having Neville tutor her was good for his confidence.

Potions wasn't that difficult to help Neville with, especially since it was her second best subject, but personally, she thought that the problems wasn't that Neville had problems with it. It was more of Snape breathing down their necks when they were making the potions. Certainly he seemed to relax and understand the material a lot better without Snape hovering nearby, pointing out what he was doing wrong.

Gwyn had her Transfiguration book open in front of her and was re-reading her notes when Harry and Ron were, once again, asking Hermione pointlessly how she was going to attend two exams at the same time, according to the schedule she'd made for herself. She glanced up as Hedwig flew through the window and landed on Harry's shoulder, waiting for him to take the letter.

"Who's it from?" Gwyn asked, looking up at him as she laid her head on her hand. He was reading it carefully, looking anxious.

"It's from Hagrid," he answered. "Buckbeak's appeal . . . it's set for the sixth. They're coming up here to do it. Someone from the Ministry of Magic . . . and an executioner."

That caused Gwyn to pull away from her studying altogether as she looked up at him in horror. "What?" she exclaimed, the horror evident in her voice, even to her. "Why are they bringing an executioner?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Hermione replied, sounding distressed. "They've already decided the outcome. It doesn't matter what Hagrid says or does, the matter's already been decided."

"They can't!" Ron howled, agitated. "I've spent _ages_ reading up on stuff for him! They can't just ignore it all!"

Gwyn sighed as she leaned her head back against the chair. "Oh, yes, they can," she said quietly. Even if her grandfather wasn't on the Committee, then Lucius would probably have his way. People like the Malfoys always had their way, whether people wanted it that way or not. Because with money came power and with power came influence. Like it or not, the Malfoys had a powerful hold on the magical community. And so, they had something to bargain with while Hagrid only had the plea of the innocence. That was something that nobody would listen to, not against the Malfoys.

Harry sighed, looking distressed as he walked over to Gwyn, sitting down next to her. "This is just the time for something like this to happen, isn't it?" he asked miserably.

"You mean with finals or with everything that's going on in the castle?" Gwyn asked dryly. Harry shook his head as he laid his hand on the arm of the chair she was sitting in, his fingers brushing against her arm.

For a moment, their eyes met, blue and green gazes clashing, and Harry yanked his hand away, turning a violent shade of red.

"Uh . . . I forgot to give you this back," he stammered, pulling her mother's locket out of his pocket and handing it to her, placing it in her hand without actually touching her. He was still red in the face, she noticed. Why was he so red? "Sorry, I meant to give it back to you after the match, but . . ."

"It's okay." If it had been anyone else, Gwyn would have minded, but then again, she wouldn't have trusted her locket with anyone else but Harry. "I trusted you enough to hold on to the most precious thing I own."

If it were possible, Harry's face turned even redder and he shifted uncomfortably at her words. "I should . . . probably get back to studying," he said quickly, heading back over to his bag and averting his gaze from her. Gwyn stared at him in bewilderment before looking back down at her Transfiguration notes, not understanding what had just happened.

Nor did she understand why, whenever she looked up, sensing someone watching her, she would see Harry's gaze quickly drift away from her, dropping back down to where his book was, but she was probably the only one of them who noticed that his book was upside down.

--

The exams seemed to arrive after no time at all and Gwyn felt the usual anxiety presiding over the entire castle as she trudged into her first exam, which of course, was one of the more difficult ones: Transfiguration. Gwyn had managed to turn her teapot into a tortoise, but it still had the same pattern on the shell that it had on the teapot. She sincerely hoped that this wasn't going to count against her.

There was hardly any time in between their first exam and lunch for a quick look over at their Charms notes before they had to whisk away upstairs and take their exam. Gwyn was just glad that she had one of her easier classes that day. Charms was the one class that she never had to study for, a fact that Hermione constantly complained about.

Plus as an added bonus, Hermione had mentioned previously that the Cheering Charms were going to be on the final, so she'd had plenty of time to prepare for that. Hermione was her partner when they were performing the spell, so Gwyn was still feeling completely cheerful when she left the classroom an hour later, but soon wore off as she began studying for Care of the Magical Creatures, Potions, and Astronomy for the next day.

Well, evening for Astronomy. Their exam was going to be taking place at night, as per usual, since it was pretty much impossible to study the stars during the day.

Thankfully, there wasn't much to study for Care of the Magical Creatures. Hagrid had pretty much lost his spirit during the finals and just had them keep a flobberworm alive for an hour to pass the exam. Gwyn felt very sorry for him, knowing how she would feel if Tabby was sentenced to death. Besides that, Buckbeak was hardly any danger. What the Committee was doing was anything but justice.

"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid said as he took a look at their flobberworms. "Bin cooped up too long. But still . . . we'll know day after tomorrow—one way or another—"

He didn't look like he believed that there was any way out of this any more than Gwyn did. Gwyn patted him on the arm, not knowing what to say as she looked helplessly at her friends. They, too, didn't have any idea what to say and just looked at their flobberworms.

But Hagrid was right about one thing; in just a few days, everything was going to be fine. Gwyn couldn't help but sense that something was going to happen to make sure that everything was going to turn out all right. She could feel her seer senses pressing down on her, assuring her that everything was going to be all right, that it was going to be fine.

And she had to believe that, despite that she might be almost fourteen, but she still believed in happy endings.

Potions she knew that she was probably going to get . . . if not high marks, but reasonable enough and that only had to do with the teacher. Gwyn knew the material enough, but Snape was an unfair teacher. He would give her low marks even if it was completely perfect. Which, more often than not, it usual was.

Astronomy went by as per usual, with more difficulty than the others, but still easier than some of her other subjects.

Then came Wednesday, the day that Gwyn had been dreading since the start of exams: History of Magic and Herbology, the two subjects that she had the most trouble in. Gwyn tried to get as much time cramming from the two finals before she was forced to take it, pushing as much information into her brain as was humanly possible.

She knew that she wasn't going to get high marks on her History of Magic exam, but Herbology, thanks to Neville's help, came far easier than it had the entire time she had been at Hogwarts and she came out of it almost grinning with triumph.

What she had not been expecting was the next day. The Defence Against the Dark Arts had been made up of an obstacle course, which Gwyn did almost perfectly—she had gotten a couple scratches from the grindylow—until she got to the boggart, which was located inside a trunk.

Gwyn almost screamed when she saw her boggart. She had been prepared for the usual sight, seeing Harry attacked by something or falling to his death, but she hadn't been prepared for this.

Harry was lying there, in front of her, on the ground. There was a pool of blood around him, his glasses were askew, and there was blood seeping out at the corner of his mouth. His green eyes, usually sparking and happy, were dull and emotionless, not seeing anything.

He was dead.

Stumbling backwards, Gwyn backed away from the sight, shaking her head in horror as she raced out of the trunk, away from the sight.

She heard someone saying her name, but it felt like she was underwater. Her stomach felt as though it were about to make her breakfast reappear and she felt unsteady on her feet, as though they could no longer support her weight. The last thing she was aware of was Harry grabbing her as she collapsed, passing out.

--

When she finally woke, Gwyn found herself in the hospital wing, with Madam Pomfrey twittering nearby as she looked over at Gwyn. "Finally awake are you? How do you feel?"

"Lousy," Gwyn muttered, still feeling slightly nauseous, even more so when she remembered what had happened before. "Did I pass out? What happened?"

"You came out of the trunk, looking pale as death," Lupin told her, looking concerned as he stood nearby. "When you saw Harry, you fainted straight on the ground."

Gwyn groaned, falling back against the pillows, but accepted the potion that Madam Pomfrey gave her. "Is it still Thursday? How long have I been out?" she wanted to know when she finished the ghastly potion. She grimaced at the taste, but looked at Lupin.

"The last exam just ended about an hour ago," Lupin told her. "Don't worry about your Arthimancy exam; I've spoken to Professor Vector and she'll allow you to make it up in a few days. She also asked me to inform you that you concentrate on getting well first." He paused. "Now . . . may I ask what it was that you saw?"

Gwyn looked down, not wanting to relieve those moments in the trunk with the boggart. It was worse than any of the nightmares than she had ever experienced because she was actually seeing it and it wasn't a dream that she was going to wake up from. Tears sprinkled her eyes and she hugged her knees tightly, letting her blonde hair fall around her face.

"I thought that the last few lessons had been going so well," Lupin added, frowning slightly. "To be honest, I didn't think that you were going to have any problems with your boggart now."

"Maybe I wouldn't have," Gwyn confessed, feeling that he deserved the truth, after all he had gone through to help her face her fears, "if it had been in the same shape it had been before." She closed her eyes, blinking back tears. "But . . . but it . . ." Gwyn took a deep, unsteady breath, looking up at Lupin. "He was already dead," she whispered.

"Oh, Gwyn," Lupin sighed, looking truly remorseful. "I'm sorry."

The tears that she had been trying to hold back started to fall and she tried to brush them away to no avail. "There was nothing that I could do," she whispered, her voice choked. "I couldn't do anything. It was one of my nightmares come to life."

Lupin moved and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, comforting her as much as he could. "I'm truly sorry, Gwyn. I suspected that there might come a point where you might have to face something like this, but I didn't expect it to come up in your exam. A boggart preys on a person's worst fear and yours is more complex than most people's. Turning into someone dying is not so simple. Your boggart was almost always a scene that was played out in your head, something that you had already imagined happening to Harry. You didn't push the thoughts passed the point of him dying to him already being dead. Your fears in the trunk must've been pushed to that point." He sighed, inhaling deeply as she finally looked up at him, tears still clinging to her cheeks. "I'm very sorry, Gwyn. I should have done more to prepare you for this, warned you that this might happen."

"You've done nothing but help me," Gwyn told him, her voice more steady now. "And I'm grateful for that. I just . . . I can't help but wonder . . . will it ever come true? Will I have to really face my worst nightmare?"

Lupin paused. "Aurora had to face hers eventually. Her greatest fear was losing her little girl or abandoning her. And it did come true," he said softly as Gwyn stared at him in shock. "Not the way she imagined, but it happened. Her daughter was raised without a mother. That was what she feared the most."

Gwyn couldn't believe what she was hearing; her mother had been scared of leaving her all alone? That was what she was afraid of? But instead of running away from her fears, she had challenged the most dangerous wizard of all time and continued to fight, even up to the end. That made Gwyn even more proud of her mother.

Climbing out of the bed, Gwyn stood up. "I think I should go find Harry, Ron, and Hermione," she said. Lupin nodded in understanding as Madam Pomfrey gave a huff, but reluctantly let her go.

When she was almost out the door, Lupin stopped her. "Harry is very lucky, you know, to have a friend like you. One day, he'll look at you and see you differently, in a different light. James saw it with Lily. It took him until fifth-year to notice her and two years before she agreed to date him. Harry will realise one day he has someone extraordinary in you, Guinevere Swann. I know he will."

Gwyn looked back at her teacher and gave him a genuine smile. "Thanks, Professor," she said as she headed out the door, her blonde hair flowing around her as she hurried out of the hospital wing and went to go find her friends. It didn't take her long; they were in the common room.

"Gwyn!" Harry had seen her the moment that she had entered and was instantly at her side, hugging her tightly. She wrapped her arms around him, just grateful to see him alive and mobile. "You scared us, are you okay?" he asked her as he led her over to seat and forced her to sit down.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she said, looking towards her friends and noticing the worried looks on their faces. "What's wrong?"

"Buckbeak," Hermione said quietly, handing over the letter to Gwyn, who took it, hardly able to read Hagrid's shaky writing.

_Lost appeal. They're going to execute a sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it. _

_Hagrid_

Gwyn uttered a swearword that caused all three of them to stare at her in shock and she shrugged. "Sorry," she muttered as Ron looked at her in amazement and pride. "We've got to go down there."

"Already discussed," Ron said, glancing at Hermione. "We got the Invisibility Cloak and we're gonna go down there later tonight. That is, if you're up for it?" he added. Harry glanced sideways, sticking very close to her and slightly protectively, from the way he was standing.

"Guys, I'm fine," Gwyn said, touched but annoyed. "I just had a little scare, that's all. I'm going with you guys tonight and there's nothing that you're going to do or say that's gonna stop me."

"We never could reason with her when she put her mind to it," Ron said to Harry, who shrugged. "He wanted to tie you to a chair and gag you to prevent you from going out tonight. He didn't want you to put any more stress on yourself than you already have."

Gwyn rolled her eyes as Harry protested in his defence.

--

Hagrid wasn't crying when they arrived at his hut and he let them in, although telling them that they shouldn't have come. Instead, he was just sitting there, staring blankly at them as Gwyn moved to the kitchen, starting some tea for them, bustling around and pouring them each a cup as Hagrid tried to help, but ended up shattering the milk jug.

"Let me do that, Hagrid," Gwyn said firmly as Hermione jumped up to help her, sweeping up the mess.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" Hermione asked him as she swept up the mess that was what was left of the milk jug.

"I—I took him outside," Hagrid said as he set down, letting the girls fix them all tea. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an—an' smell fresh air—before—"

He gave a small half-sob and Gwyn looked over at him, her heart breaking as she looked at the man before her. A man who tried so hard to do the right thing, even when the right thing looked like the wrong thing to the community at large.

"Isn't there anything that anyone can do Hagrid?" Harry asked him desperately. "Dumbledore—"

"He's tried," Hagrid said miserably. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared. . . . Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like and Cormack Toren's no better. Threatened 'em, I expect . . . an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's . . . but it'll be quick an' clean . . . an' I'll be beside him . . ."

Gwyn looked down, ashamed in the part that her mother's family was playing in this. "I'm sorry, Hagrid," she began, but he waved her off.

"S'not yer fault, Gwyn. Yeh can't help what yer family's like an' there's nothin' yeh can do to stop it. No, yeh just drink yer tea and be off. Yeh think I want yeh watchin' something like that? An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway. . . . If Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble."

"Oh, my god!" Gwyn suddenly exclaimed, startled everybody and they looked around at her. "Sorry," she said quickly as she turned around to face them all. "Sorry, but . . ." She turned over the milk jug to show them what she had found hiding inside.

Scabbers.

"Scabbers!" Ron yelled happily as the rat came sliding onto the table, straight into his master's hands. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?" The rat was struggling in Ron's hands and looked a great deal worse than ever. "It's okay, Scabbers! No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

Hagrid, who had barely been paying attention to this, suddenly looked at the window. "They're comin' . . ." he whispered and the quartet turned around towards the window. "Yeh gotta go. They mustn' find yeh here. . . . Go now. . . ."

It was with great reluctance and protest that they left through the back under the cloak.

As the Ministry members entered the hut through the front, Gwyn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione left through the back, hurrying rapidly towards the castle. Gwyn, though she wanted to be there for Hagrid, did not want to witness the execution. She had seen enough death this year through her nightmares.

Hermione apparently agreed with her. "Please, let's hurry. I can't stand it, I can't bear it. . . ."

But before they could reach the lawn, Ron suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. "Ron, come on, please," Gwyn protested. Harry reached towards her, gripping her hand tightly. She could feel his fingernails digging into her skin.

"I'm sorry, it's Scabbers, he won't stay put—" Ron struggled to keep a hand on his pet, who was going nuts in his hands, trying desperately to get away from them, even sinking his teeth into the owner who had taken care of him for over two years. "Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron."

Down at the hut, the door had opened and Gwyn could hear men's voices heading out towards the pumpkin patch.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione pleaded and he nodded, trying very hard to keep a hand on his rat as they started forward again. But they had barley gone two steps when Ron stopped again.

"Ron!" Gwyn begged. "Come on!"

"I can't hold him—Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us—"

But by then, it was too late. Gwyn turned and buried her face into Harry's chest when she heard the sounds coming from the garden. Male voices were talking indistinctively before there was silence and a loud thud of an axe.

"They did it!" Hermione whispered as Gwyn gripped Harry tighter and he wrapped his arms around her, trying to console her. "I d—don't believe it—they did it!"

But Gwyn had the most peculiar feeling that something was wrong.


	17. In the Shrieking Shack

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Seventeen: In the Shrieking Shack

Gwyn couldn't breathe, she couldn't move . . . she couldn't even speak. All she could do was cling to Harry as the four of them stayed huddled underneath the Invisibility Cloak, holding on to one another as they heard the violent howls coming from Hagrid at his hut. Harry probably would've turned back had he not been supporting Gwyn to keep her from falling.

The blonde witch just stayed there, tears falling from her eyes as her mind buzzed with anger, rage, and anguish. How could they do it? she thought despairingly. How could they kill a hippogriff who hadn't even done anything wrong? There wasn't anything wrong with him—he wasn't dangerous! At least, not anymore than hippogriffs usually were.

"Ow!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, causing all of them to look at him as Scabbers, who had been continuously wringing in his hands while they had been in a state of shock, suddenly broke free. "He bit me!" Ron said, appalled. "Scabbers!"

"Ron, come back!" Hermione hissed at him as he slipped out from underneath the cloak and raced after his beloved rat. "Come back underneath the cloak!"

But the redhead ignored her, racing after Scabbers. After one look at each other, the rest of them hurried after their friend, pulling the cloak off of them, as it was impossible to run while underneath it.

If she had been paying more attention to her psyche, then maybe Gwyn would've known what was going to happen next. Maybe not, maybe this is exactly what was supposed to happen and there was no way or reason to change it. Maybe she could only change what was meant to be changed.

As she came to a stop, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders as her breath was heaving, Gwyn stared up in horror at the Whomping Willow that had destroyed Harry's broomstick during that match when the dementors had come onto the grounds. Ron was just beneath it, having dove to the ground to grab the fast-moving Scabbers and was now holding him tightly.

"Scabbers, you bit me!" he accused his rat as Gwyn turned to look at her friends.

"You two do know what tree this is, right?" she demanded. Harry's expression turned to horror as he looked.

"That's not good," he said before yelling at their friend. "Ron! Run!"

Ron turned towards them as Harry got his attention and his eyes fixed on something behind them, true terror written in his face. "Harry! Hermione! Gwyn! Run!" he yelled, pointing at something. "It's the Grim!"

Gwyn whirled around just in time to see the dog that she'd found several months beforehand standing behind them, his mouth opened in a snarl and she prepared herself for an attack. But instead, he leaped over them and headed straight for Ron.

"No!" Harry ran after their friend as the dog tackled him and began dragging him towards the tree. Gwyn and Hermione exchanged one look before they followed Harry, who dived after Ron, but was knocked off of his feet by one of the trees limbs.

Gwyn shrieked in surprise as she was struck too, sending her to the ground, nearly knocking the wind out of her and she felt something trickling down from her temple. She reached up and felt something very wet there before lowering her hand and looking.

Blood.

Getting to her feet, she ran to her friends, who were getting to their feet as well, both of them having been on the receiving end of the tree's attack too. "Harry, we've got to go for help," Hermione was saying.

"No! That thing's big enough to eat him; we haven't got time—"

"Harry, we're never going to through without help—" Hermione protested, but Gwyn looked at her firmly, not willing to leave their friend behind, especially since she had helped that dog several months ago.

"I don't know about you two, but I'm not willing to leave Ron alone," she said stubbornly. Harry nodded in agreement as they dove in through the trees, struggling to find a way through the vicious branches. She covered her head as they were right in the middle of the blows, flinching every time that they struck, feeling the cuts as they tore through her skin.

And then, suddenly, they stopped.

Gwyn raised her head, looking around and gasped as she saw that the tree had frozen in place, not a single branch or leaf twitched or even moved. And standing at the foot of the tree, his paw on a knot in the trunk, was Crookshanks.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione breathed in amazement. "How did he know—"

"He's friends with that dog," Harry explained wearily. "I've seen them together."

"It's not just him," Gwyn said shakily. They looked at her. "That was the dog that I told you about, the one that I found . . . but he seemed nice enough, why would he take Ron?" She didn't understand this; didn't understand any of this. What was going on?

"I don't know," Harry said softly, shaking her head. "I didn't realise that was the same dog . . . come on, let's go. And keep your wands out," he instructed the girls. Gwyn already had hers in hand by the time that he said that, gripping it tightly as they walked to the trunk, sliding into the tunnel after Crookshanks as he began to lead them through.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione whispered as they set off through the tunnel. Gwyn shook her head, keeping a close watch out. Something about this place was making her skin crawl. "Where do you suppose this tunnel goes?"

"I don't know. . . ." Harry answered. "It's marked on the Marauder's Map, but Fred and George said no one's ever gotten into it. . . . It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade. . . ."

Gwyn shivered again, having the vague sensation that she knew exactly where it was going, the one place that she had never gone in Hogsmeade. "I have a hunch," she said when they looked at her questioningly. "I just hope that I'm wrong."

Just as Gwyn thought that the tunnel would never end, that they would just continue searching for their friend for ages, she saw a dim light ahead of them and she hurried forward after Harry with Hermione right behind her as they climbed up through the passageway, entering into a dusty room.

The windows were boarded up, the furniture was all broken, there were stained over the floor, and the wallpaper was peeling.

"We're in the Shrieking Shack," Hermione whispered in astonishment, "aren't we?"

Neither Harry nor Gwyn answered as they slowly edged forward through the room, climbing up the stairs, seeing the dust had been disturbed by someone or something dragging someone up them. Someone with paws.

The door at the top of the stairs was open, plus there was a trail of disturbed dust leading straight into it and all three of them ran inside. Gwyn felt relief fly through her as she saw Ron on the bed, clearly horrified and shaken, but visibly unharmed other than his broken leg.

"Ron, you're all right!" Hermione exclaimed, overjoyed.

"Are you okay?" Gwyn asked.

"Where's the dog?" Harry demanded, looking glad to see he was all right.

"Harry, it's a trap!" Ron said, his teeth gritted together with pain. "He's the dog! He's an Animagus!" He pointed at someone behind them and Gwyn slowly turned around, seeing pawprints in the dust that went straight behind the door and she looked up as it was pushed closed.

And revealed Sirius Black standing right behind it.

Gwyn couldn't breathe, even for a fraction of a second. Just looking at him, there didn't seem to be a trace of the boy that had been written about in her mother's diary. Right now, he looked every part of the murderer that everyone marked him out to be as he pointed Ron's wand at them.

_"Exeplliarmus!" _he said, his voice weak and broken from disuse. Still, the spell worked well enough, as her wand flew from her hand, along with Harry and Hermione's, and he caught them, looking at Harry, but Gwyn could've sworn that his eyes shifted towards her for a minute.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said to Harry. Gwyn moved closer to Harry, gripping his arm to make sure that he didn't do anything stupid, like get himself killed. It was one of her nightmares come to life. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful . . . it will make everything much easier."

Gwyn felt Harry move and she grabbed Harry to hold him back, stopping him from going and . . . well, she was pretty sure that he was going to attack Black, if the look of fury in his eyes were any indication.

"No, Harry!" Hermione whispered as she grabbed Harry's other arm to help Gwyn hold him back.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us to!" Ron snarled at Black, managing to get to his feet, but the effort caused more colour to drain from his face and he had trouble staying upright.

Looking at Black, Gwyn noticed something flicker behind his eyes, something familiar, like a shadow of someone she knew. "Lie down," he told Ron, a flash of humanity in his voice. "You'll damage that leg even more."

Ron, as usual, didn't listen. "Did you hear me? You'll have to kill all four of us!" he said fiercely, but weakly, gripping Hermione's shoulder in order to keep himself from falling.

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," Black replied and Gwyn noticed that his eyes moved towards Ron's pocket, where she noticed that there was a lump, undoubtedly where Scabbers was hiding.

"Why's that?" Harry snarled, still trying to break free of Gwyn and Hermione's hold. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew. . . . What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione was white and terrified. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!"

Gwyn was thrown back onto the bed when Harry wrenched free of their hold, lunging at Black, and she watched as the two collided with each other, fighting with one another for the wand in Black's hand. Only when he reached up and grabbed Harry's neck did Gwyn react, kicking Black in the ribs and he let go with a grunt.

Grabbing Harry's arm, she pulled him away. "Get the wands!" she yelled at him, putting herself between Black and Harry, using herself as a shield, but looked around when she heard a low hiss from a cat.

Crookshanks had his claws sunk into Harry's arm when he threw the cat off, leaping for his wand before whirling around to Gwyn. "Get out of the way!" he yelled at her.

Moving quickly, she grabbed her wand, along with Ron and Hermione's, tossing them to the other two as they moved towards the bed. She, however, stayed right by Harry's side. There was no way that she was going to move, not when they were all in very real danger.

Black looked at her, then at Harry. "Going to kill me, Harry?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You killed my parents," Harry countered.

"I don't deny it," Black confessed. "But if you knew the whole story—"

Gwyn looked at him curiously, her own doubts about Black's guilt resurfacing from where she had pushed him to the back of her mind, but had never really forgotten. Something about the way that he said it just made those doubts come back up again.

Even here and now, when they were being attacked by a man who had escaped from Azkaban, Gwyn was shocked that she couldn't find it in herself to condemn him. What if something more happened than any of them knew? What if Black really was innocent?

Before she could voice any of these thoughts, however, Harry said angrily, "The whole story? You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black begged him. "You'll regret it if you don't. . . . You don't understand."

"I understand a lot better than you think." For the first time since they had left for Hagrid's, Harry's voice shook. "You never heard her, did you? My mum . . . trying to stop Voldemort killing me . . . and you did that . . . you did it . . ."

"Harry, wait a second, stop!" Gwyn protested, grabbing his arm to stop him. "Please, just stop, okay?" Harry tried to push her off, but his green eyes looked directly in her eyes for a second and he stopped. For a moment, Gwyn wondered what her expression showed. "Don't do this . . ."

"Gwyn, right now isn't the time for your theories—"

"It's not about that!" Gwyn started crying now, desperate to make him understand. "I don't care about that right now! Please, just listen to me! Don't do this . . . because I don't want to lose you."

Harry stopped and looked at her. "I won't get hurt."

"You're already hurt," Gwyn whispered, looking at his injuries from when he and Black had been battling for the wand. "And that isn't what I meant. I don't want to lose you . . . the way that my mum lost him." She nodded towards where Black was lying, watching the exchange.

For a moment that seemed so much longer—as though it contained all of eternity and more—Gwyn and Harry just looked at each other. Twice did Harry's hand rise to deliver the final blow to Black and twice his hand did fall. No one moved, no one spoke until they heard a new sound, someone moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione shrieked towards whoever was there. "WE'RE UP HERE—SIRIUS BLACK—_QUICK!_"

Footsteps thundered up the steps and then the door was thrown open to reveal Professor Lupin as he ran inside, his eyes missing nothing, from Ron and Hermione, standing near the door, to Harry and Gwyn, who was holding Harry back as he held a wand on Black, who was lying at their feet.

"_Expelliarmus!_" he roared and all of their wands flew to Lupin's waiting hand and Gwyn let out a slow breath of relief, pulling Harry back as Lupin looked at Black carefully. Gwyn's psyche flashed and she suddenly realised something that she hadn't understood in her mother's journal. Lupin had been friends with her mother, with Harry's dad. So had Black.

So, with that understanding, it hit her that Lupin might not be here to help them after all. In fact, she was sure of it when Lupin asked anxiously, "Where is he, Sirius?"

Gwyn didn't understand what was happening, what was going on. Something was nagging her at the back of her head, but she couldn't put her finger on it. There was something she was missing, some clue that she had missed that might have made her understand everything better.

Black didn't move for a moment, didn't answer Lupin, but then he raised his hand, pointing a finger at Ron. The quartet stared at him in bewilderment.

"But then . . ." Lupin stared at Black, as though trying to figure out some mystery of the past, much like Gwyn was trying to do. " . . . why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless . . . unless he was the one . . . unless you switched . . . without telling me?"

Black nodded without removing his gaze from Lupin. For a moment, the Defence teacher just stared at the convict before he finally lowered his wand, walking over to him and pulling him to his feet before embracing him as though he would a brother. As Gwyn would if she were hugging Ron or Hermione.

And Gwyn could've been more shocked if Hermione had taken up Quidditch.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione shrieked, causing Lupin to release Black and look at the bushy haired witch. "You—you—" It seemed for the first time since Gwyn had known her, Hermione was incapable of forming words. "—you and him—"

"Hermione, calm down," Lupin tried to placate her.

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione was beyond reasoning. "I've been covering for you—"

"I trust you!" Harry yelled. "And all this time, you've been his friend—"

"You're wrong," Lupin said gently but firmly. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now—let me explain . . ."

"NO!" Hermione screeched. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too—_he's a werewolf!_"

Gwyn froze at Hermione revelation, staring at her in amazement before looking at Lupin.

Suddenly, it all come together in one pile of jumbled mess. It explained everything about Lupin. Why he had drank the potion that Snape had been preparing for him—she had read something about a potion to help werewolves keep their mind during transformations—why he was frequently absent during classes and always during the full moon, why he was afraid of orbs, which were really moons . . . of course, that explained it—

"Not up to your usual standards, Hermione," Lupin said after along moment. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead. . . ." He paused briefly, closing his eyes. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Gwyn released a slow breath. "Well, I can't say that I'm surprised," she commented, startling everyone. "Certainly explains a lot." She looked at Hermione enquiringly. "Just out of curiosity, how long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione answered at once. "Ever since Professor Snape set that werewolf essay. . . ."

"He'll be delighted," Lupin told the girls. "He assigned that essay, hoping that someone would realise what my symptoms meant. . . . Did you check the lunar chart and realise that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realise that boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione admitted.

"Well, well, Hermione, you really are the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met."

"No, I'm not," Hermione protested. "If I'd been a bit clever, I'd have told everyone what you are."

"I suspect they already know, Hermione," Gwyn spoke up from where she was standing next to Harry, still gripping his arm tightly. Everyone looked at her and Black's eyes narrowed slightly, as though something were just dawning on him. "I doubt that there's much that gets past Dumbledore. He already knows about me, remember? So if he knows when a seer enters his school, then surely he must know when a werewolf does. No offence," she added to Lupin, who accepted her apology with a wave of his hand.

"Some of the staff thought that Dumbledore was mad," Lupin said wryly. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy—"

"AND HE WAS WRONG! YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THIS TIME!" Harry pointed at Black, who was standing nearby the bed, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking slightly.

"I have not been helping Sirius. . . . If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain."

Gwyn looked at her friends. "I don't know about you, but Professor Lupin hasn't given us much reason not to trust him." She looked at the Defence teacher. "Give us our wands back and I'll listen."

"That's more than fair," Lupin agreed as he separated the wands, handing each of them to their owner. Harry still looked suspicious as he caught his, looking at Lupin.

"If you haven't been helping him," he said slowly. "Then how did you know he was here?"

"The Marauders' Map," Lupin explained. Gwyn stared at him in amazement, then understanding. "I was in my office examining it—"

"Of course!" Gwyn exclaimed. "You're Moony! And . . ." She looked at Black. "The dog . . . you're Padfoot?" Black gave a short nod. "Then who's Wormtail and Prongs?"

"I'll explain that in a moment. The important thing is that I was watching it carefully this evening because I had an idea that the four of you might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I? You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry—"

"How do you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it. . . . The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid and set off back towards the castle. But you were now accompanied by someone else."

"What? No, we weren't!"

"Yes, we were," Gwyn reminded him. "We found Scabbers at Hagrid's, remember?"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," Lupin continued talking as though they hadn't interrupted. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?" He paused. "And then I saw another dot, moving fast towards you, labelled _Sirius Black_. . . . I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow. . . ." Lupin trailed off, looking at Ron. "Do you think I could have a look at that rat?"

"What's Scabbers got to with this?"

"Everything. May I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, but there was no real reason for him to deny the request, so he obeyed, pulling him out. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," Black suddenly said. Gwyn looked at him.

"He's a wizard," Lupin added.

"An Animagus," Black explained, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."


	18. Tale of the Past

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Eighteen: Tale of the Past

Stunned beyond understand and barely comprehending what had just been revealed, Gwyn just stared at Lupin and Black, trying to think of something to say and unable to come up with anything. It was impossible . . . Peter Pettigrew had died twelve years ago . . . there was a street filled with witnesses . . . the Minister had said that they delivered Pettigrew's finger in a box to his grieved mother . . . and yet . . . and yet . . .

"You're both mental," Ron finally said, shattering the silence that had stretched on for several minutes.

"Ridiculous," Hermione agreed, her voice faint.

"Peter Pettigrew's _dead_," Harry said fiercely before pointing at Black. "_He_ killed him twelve years ago!"

Immediately, Black's face darkened, giving him a much more dangerous look—not that he hadn't been dangerous to begin with. "I meant to," he corrected. "But little Peter got the better of me . . . not this time, though!"

Gwyn shrieked in surprise as Black lunged at Ron in an attempt to grab Scabbers and Ron yelled as Black fell on his leg. "Stop it!" she shouted.

"Sirius, STOP!" Lupin shouted at his friend, grabbing Black and pulling him away from the redhead. "WAIT! You can't do it just like that—they need to understand—we've got to explain—"

"We can explain afterwards!"

"They've—got—a—right—to—know—everything!" Lupin insisted all the while trying to keep a firm hold on Black. "Ron's kept him as a pet, Sirius! There are parts of it even I don't understand! And Harry—you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

It was the mention of her best friend that caused Black to stop fighting Lupin, his eyes flashing towards where Gwyn and Harry were still standing next to one another. Gwyn barely even noticed that she hadn't let go of Harry this whole time, but judging by his expression, neither did he.

"All right, then," Black finally said, looking back at Scabbers. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder that I was imprisoned for. . . ."

Ron was trying to get to his feet. "You're nutters, both of you," he informed them. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," Lupin told him, not unkindly, while keeping his wand on Scabbers. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron tried again to head out of the room, but his broken foot lost balance and he stumbled. Hermione caught him, gently guiding him back towards the bed while Gwyn looked between her professor and the fugitive.

"I don't understand how Scabbers could possibly be Pettigrew," she said slowly. "I mean, there was a street full of witnesses—"

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" Black growled at her, his grey eyes still fixed on Scabbers . . . Pettigrew . . . whoever he was. It hurt Gwyn's head to think on it.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," Lupin agreed with her, giving a small nod. "Even I believed it myself—until I was looking at the map tonight. Because the Marauder's Map never lies . . . Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry." He looked at the dark-haired wizard, who glanced at Ron, the silent agreement in their eyes.

"But Professor Lupin," Hermione spoke up, her voice shaking slightly. "Scabbers can't be Pettigrew . . . it just can't be true, you know it can't . . ."

"Why can't it be true?" Lupin questioned her. He spoke no differently than he would if they were in class. Gwyn stayed right next to Harry, not quite ready to let go of him just yet. She wasn't sure what he would do if she did.

"Because . . . because people would _know_ if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework—the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things . . . and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have only been seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list . . ."

"Unless," Gwyn pointed out, "he weren't registered. Not unless nobody knew that he was one. I'm pretty sure that Black . . . Sirius . . . wasn't on the list either, was he?"

Hermione paused at the question, then flushed at this point. "No, he wasn't," she admitted.

"Right you are, Gwyn," Lupin answered with an encouraging nod. "The Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," Black said sharply, though Gwyn had noticed his eyes had shifted briefly to her when she had mentioned him. She wasn't sure if it had simply been the way that she had named him or not. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right," Lupin told him, "but you'll need to help me, Sirius. I only know how it began. . . ."

Everyone jumped as the door opened by itself and Lupin took a quick look out before glancing back at them. "No one's there," he assured him, retaking his place, though glancing at the door, mystified.

"This place is haunted," Ron decided.

"No, it's not," Lupin answered. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted. . . The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me." He sighed. "That's where all of this starts—with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten . . . and if I hadn't been so foolhardy. . . ."

Gwyn watched him, her curiosity peaking, overriding any fear and terror that she might have been experiencing.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days, there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It keeps me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform. . . . I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.

"Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me.

"By then, Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He was that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school. . . ." Lupin looked to where Harry and Gwyn were standing now. "I told you, months ago, Harry, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted _because_ I came to Hogwarts. This house, the tunnel that leads to it—they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous.

"My transformations in those days were—were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumour. . . . Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it. . . .

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends, Sirius Black . . . Peter Pettigrew . . . and of course, your father, Harry—James Potter.

"Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them that my mother was kill, and that I had to go home to see her. . . . I was terrified that they would desert me once they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth. . . .

"And they didn't desert me at all," Lupin continued. Gwyn had expected this; true friends would desert their friends just because they were a little different. Her own had proved that when she learned she was a seer. "Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad, too?" Harry asked.

Lupin smiled and nodded. "Yes, indeed. It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go terrible wrong—one reason that the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into different animals at will."

Hermione had a puzzled look on her face. "But how did that help you?" she wanted to know.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals. A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed. . . . Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," Black grumbled, his grey eyes still focused on Scabbers. Gwyn felt sort of sorry for him, but not enough to knock Ron out of the way and deliver Scabbers to him.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there . . . well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals that they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did. . . . And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map and sing it with our nicknames. As you guessed, Gwyn, Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal—?" Harry began to ask, but Hermione's angry reaction interrupted him.

"That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip and bitten someone?"

"A thought that still haunts me," Lupin said quietly. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless—carried away with our own cleverness.

"I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course . . . he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed. . . .

"All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether or not I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me . . . and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all of my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it . . . so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

Breaking his gaze from Scabbers, Black looked around at Lupin, the confusion apparent in his eyes. "Snape? What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," Lupin explained with a heavy sigh. "He's teaching here as well." He looked at the quartet. "Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons . . . you see, Sirius here played a trick on him, which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me—"

"Serves him right," Black muttered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to . . . hoping he could get us expelled. . . ."

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month," Lupin explained. "We were in the same year, you know, and we—er—didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field . . . anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me towards the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be—er—amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it—if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf—but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life . . . Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on, he knew what I was. . . ."

Gwyn suddenly because aware that there was someone nearby. Her seer senses were practically screaming at her, alerting her to the fact that there was someone standing invisible right behind Lupin.

Before she could alert this fact to anyone, Harry said, "So that's why Snape doesn't like you, because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," a greasy, cold voice said right from where Gwyn felt the presence and then Professor Snape was pulling off Harry's Invisibility Cloak, his wand held directly at Lupin's heart.


	19. The True Murderer

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Nineteen: The True Murderer

There was nothing that could have prepared Gwyn for seeing her Potions Master standing there, pointing his wand at Lupin and Black—except, perhaps, her seer powers, but they seemed content on warning her about this particular event too late. Hermione screamed as Black jumped to his feet while Harry looked shocked.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," Snape commented as he tossed aside Harry's precious cloak, the one thing he had inherited from his father, as though it were meaningless. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you. . . ." He kept his wand fixed on Lupin, his eyes filled with triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here? I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forget to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did . . . lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight. I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof," Snape replied, ignoring Lupin's protests. "Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout."

"Severus, you're making a mistake. You haven't heard anything," Lupin said, the urgency in his voice clear, even to Gwyn, whose heart was pounding in her ears. "I can explain—Sirius is not here to kill Harry—"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," Snape replied, ignoring him. Gwyn saw out of the corner of her eye Black's face flicker with fear for a moment. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes to this. . . . He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin . . . a tame werewolf."

"You fool," Lupin said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban."

Gwyn gasped in horror as ropes exploded from Snape's wand, binding and gagging Lupin. Unable to support himself, he collapsed onto the ground. Black, with rage in his eyes, moved to help him, but Snape stopped him, his wand pointed at the fugitive now.

"Give me a reason," he said, almost pleadingly. "Get me a reason to do it and I swear I will."

Looking between them, Gwyn couldn't believe what was happening. But one thing she knew for sure. She couldn't allow an innocent man to go to Azkaban. If there was just a chance that there was something that had been missed, however small, then maybe . . . just maybe there was a chance he could be set free . . . and justice could be served.

"Professor Snape," Hermione said in a small voice, "it—it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w—would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat at her. Hermione went very pale. "You, Potter, Swann, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, _hold your tongue._"

"But what if there's been a mistake?" Gwyn demanded angrily. "Is your ego worth more than justice?"

Both Harry and Ron gawked at her, looking half-proud of her nerve to talk to Snape like that, but the Potions Master was not as pleased. He actually looked beyond reason and beyond rationality. There would be no reasoning with him, Gwyn realised.

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL! DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Gwyn shut her mouth as sparks flew out of his wand, straight at Black's face. "Vengeance is very sweet," he added to Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you. . . ."

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black countered, grey eyes narrowed in extreme dislike. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle"—he nodded at Ron—"I'll come quietly. . . ."

"Up to the castle?" Snape repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we got out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black . . . pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay. . . ." If it were possible, Black's face went even paler.

"You—you've got to hear me out," he whispered, his voice cracking. "The rat—look at the rat—"

Snape ignored him. "Come on, all of you," he ordered, snapping his fingers and the ends of the ropes flew to his hands. Gwyn bit her lip to keep from crying out. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too—"

Gwyn reached for her wand, directing it at Snape at the same moment that Harry pulled free of her tight grip on him, racing to the other side of the room and blocking the door.

"Lower that wand, girl, if you know what's best for you," Snape snarled at her before looking at the dark-haired wizard standing in front of the door. "And Potter, get out of the way, you're in enough trouble already. If I hadn't been here to save your skin—"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry pointed out recklessly. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having boggart lessons. So has Gwyn. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," Snape retorted angrily. "Get out of the way, Potter, and Swann, _lower that wand_."

"Yeah, that's gonna happen," Gwyn said fiercely. "Listen, if there's even a chance that he's innocent, I'm not gonna risk turning him over to the dementors. I won't send an innocent man to his death."

"You're pathetic," Harry snapped, looking angry. "Just because they made a fool out of you at school, you won't even listen—"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape was furious, but it was harder to tell which one of them he was angrier with. Maybe Gwyn, maybe Harry. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well-served if he'd killed you! You have died just like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken about Black! And your mother was the same way," he added, looking at Gwyn, who froze on the spot. "Aurora never believed that he was guilty of the crimes he'd committed. Right up until she was slaughtered in the street, she tried to free Black and clear his name. Now get out of the way or I will make you, Potter. GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

It was his words about her mother that made up Gwyn's mind. She raised her wand, seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione all raising theirs at the same time that she did, and screamed, "_Expelliarmus!_" The Disarming Spell working instantly, sending Snape flying into the opposite wall and falling to the floor, unconscious before he hit it.

"You should have done that," Black said, his gaze on Harry. "You should have left him to me. . . ."

Lowering her wand, Gwyn didn't release her grip on it, just looking at Snape. "I knew I wasn't going to make it until fourth-year without casting a spell on him," she muttered. Ron was the only one who laughed and his laughter was weak with pain and the situation being very serious.

"We attacked a teacher," Hermione whispered, looking beside herself as she looked fearfully at Snape. "We attacked a teacher. Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble."

"I'm still not saying I believe you," Harry told Lupin as Black unbound him, helping him up.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," Lupin answered. "Ron, give me Peter, please. Now."

Ron tightened his grip on his rat, looking around at the quartet for support. "Come off it. Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on _Scabbers_? I mean . . . okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat—there are millions of rats—how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"Good question," Gwyn muttered, turning to look at Black curiously. "How did you know?"

Black reached into his robes, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it over to her. Gwyn took the paper and unfolded it out, smoothing it flat. Everyone crowded around her so that they could look at the piece of paper she was holding. Gwyn gasped at what she saw.

It was the same clipping that had sported Ron and his family the previous summer, the one where Mr. Weasley had won all of that gold in the drawing. And, she now realised, Scabbers was sitting on Ron's shoulder in the photograph.

"How did you get this?" Lupin asked, astounded.

"Fudge," Black explained. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page . . . on this boy's shoulder. . . . I knew him at once . . . how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts . . . to where Harry was. . . ."

"My god," Lupin murmured, looking at the photograph, then to Scabbers in Ron's hand and back again. "His front paw . . ."

"What about it?" Ron asked defensively.

"He's got a toe missing," Black answered.

"Of course," Lupin said in realisation. "So simple . . . so _brilliant_ . . . he cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," Black agreed. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the entire street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself—and sped down into the sewer with the other rats. . . ."

Something about this tugged on Gwyn's mind and her head spun at this revelation. "All that they could find left of Pettigrew was some tattered robes and his finger," she whispered, the truth weighing down on her. She had wondered how it could have survived if the blast had been as bad as everyone said that it was. And now, here was the answer.

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right—"

"Twelve years, in fact," Lupin agreed. "Didn't you ever wondered why he was living so long?"

"We've been taking good care of him!"

Except, Gwyn thought, not daring to speak this particular thought aloud, Scabbers had been looking ill ever since Ron had come back from Egypt. Ever since Black had made his escape from Azkaban.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" Lupin inquired. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again. . . ."

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" Ron insisted, jabbing his free finger at Crookshanks.

"This cat isn't mad." Black reached down, stroking Hermione's cat affectionately. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognised Peter for what hew as right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was awhile before he trusted me. . . . Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after and he's been helping me."

"What do you mean?" Hermione looked very pale and her voice was soft and barely audible.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't," Black explained. "So he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me. . . . As I understood it, he stole them from a boy's bedside table. . . . But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it. This cat—Crookshanks, did you call him?—told me Peter had left blood on the sheets. . . . I suppose he bit himself. . . . Well, faking his own death had worked once. . . ."

"And why did he fake his own death?" Harry asked. Gwyn moved towards him again, to soothe him, but he pulled his hand free of hers. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"Harry—" Gwyn began, but he ignored her.

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," Black agreed, with a murderous look at Scabbers.

"Then I should have let Snape take you!" Harry yelled.

"Harry, don't you see?" Lupin asked, trying to calm things down. "All this time, we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents and Peter tracked him down—but it was the other way around, don't you see? _Peter_ betrayed your mother and father—Sirius tracked _Peter_ down—"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE! HE WAS THEIR SECRET KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!" He pointed at Black, who shook his head, his eyes flickering with sudden pain.

"Harry . . . I as good as killed them," he whispered. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me. . . . I'm to blame, I know it. The night that they died, I'd felt restless all day. It was as though I knew something terrible was going to happen. So I decided to head out to check on Peter.

"Anyway, that's, uh . . . that's when Aurora showed up at my door," he added, looking to Gwyn now, whose heart leaped into her throat at the mention of her mother. "She was as white as a sheet, panic in her voice, frantic, terrified out of her mind about Lily and James. She told me that she'd had a vision about them. Well, we knew what usually happened when she had her visions. Something usually went very wrong, sometimes even deadly.

"So we both headed out to check on Peter. When we arrived at his hiding place, he was gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I didn't want Aurora to leave her daughter motherless, so I sent her back to her house, hoping she'd be safe there, and I set out for Lily and James' house straight away. When I saw the house destroyed and their bodies . . . I realised what Peter must've done . . . what I had done . . ." For the first time during his tale, Black's voice broke and he looked away.

"Enough of this," Lupin said, not sounding at all like the defence teacher Gwyn had come to know. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, _give me that rat_."

"What are you going to do if I give him to you?" Ron wanted to know.

"Force him to show himself," Lupin answered. "If he really is a rat, it won't harm him."

Gwyn looked over at the redhead. "Give him to him, Ron," she said softly and Ron looked at her. Then, after a long moment, he held Scabbers out to Lupin, allowing him to take him.

Almost immediately, Scabbers began to writhe and squirm in Lupin's hand. It was as though he knew what would happen and was trying desperately to get away before it did, Gwyn thought wonderingly.

"Ready, Sirius?" he asked, looking over at Black. The fugitive in question had retrieved Snape's wand from where it had fallen and was walking over to Lupin and Scabbers, his grey eyes fixed upon the rat as he nodded. "All right. On the count of three. One—two—THREE!"

They cast the spell together and Gwyn turned her head away, shielding her eyes from the light. Only when it was safe to look did she turn her head back and gasped at what she saw.

A man was standing in the same place where Scabbers had been, breathing very fast and heavily, his eyes darting all around them, searching for an escape route.

"Why, hello, Peter," Lupin said. Gwyn had to admire how cool and collected he sounded, as though he were talking about the weather. "Long time, no see."

"S—Sirius . . . R—Remus . . ." Pettigrew's voice was shrill and high-pitched, making Gwyn wince. "My friends . . . my old friends . . ."

Gwyn was sure that Black would've taken his opportunity had Lupin not grabbed his arm, giving him a warning look. But when he spoke to Pettigrew, he still spoke casually.

"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points when you were squeaking around down there on the bed—"

"Remus . . . you don't believe him, do you. . .? He tried to kill me, Remus. . . ."

"So we've heard," Lupin said. Gwyn shivered at the switch to chilliness. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with, Peter, if you be so—"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew's voice was becoming much more shrill, causing the back of Gwyn's neck to turn cold. There was just something about this guy that was making her seer powers go haywire. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too. . . . You've got to help me, Remus. . . ."

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," Lupin assured him.

"Sorted things out?" Pettigrew's eyes kept flickering around him, focusing on the only escape, the door right behind where Gwyn and Harry were standing. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" Lupin queried. "When nobody has ever done it before"

"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew insisted. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"

Black laughed mirthlessly. "Voldemort, teach me tricks?" he repeated. Pettigrew flinched. "What, scared to hear your old master's name? I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know what you mean, Sirius—" Pettigrew seemed to be growing more and more anxious with ever second. If he was innocent, then why was he so desperate to escape? If he had nothing to hide, then there was nothing for him to be afraid of.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," Black told him coldly. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter. . . . They all think you're dead or you'd have to answer to them. . . . I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information . . . and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all of Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. . . . If they ever got wind you were alive, Peter—"

"Don't know . . . what you're talking about . . ." Pettigrew said again, but his voice kept getting higher and higher. "You don't believe this—this madness, Remus—"

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," Lupin commented, looking at his former friend.

"Innocent, but scared!" Pettigrew insisted. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban—the spy, Sirius Black!"

"How dare you," Black hissed, his grey eyes suddenly very dark and very dangerous. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful then myself? But you, Peter—I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us . . . me and Remus . . . and James. . . ."

"Me, a spy . . . must be out of your mind . . . never . . . don't know how you can say such a—"

"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it. I thought it was the perfect plan . . . a bluff. . . . Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you. . . . It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort that you could hand him the Potters."

It was still for only a second before Hermione broke the silence. "Professor Lupin? Can—can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione."

"Well—Scabbers—I mean, this—this mean—he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's been working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There! Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair on Harry's head! Why should I?"

"Because there would no point," Gwyn suggested. Everyone looked at her, but she looked straight at Pettigrew, looking at him, unknowingly, in the image of her mother. "Voldemort's somewhere out there, powerless and weak and alone. Why risk everything for a master who's incapable of protecting you?"

"Exactly," Black agreed with a nod at her. "You never did anything for anyone unless you could see what as in it for you, Peter. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all his power, were you? You'd want to be sure he was the biggest bully on the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else would you find a wizarding family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength and it was safe to rejoin him. . . ."

Pettigrew was incapable of speech as Hermione found her voice again. "Er—Mr. Black—Sirius?" she queried. He stared at her, unused to being addressed like this. "If you don't mind my asking, how—how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you! Exactly! Precisely what I—"

"Enough," Gwyn muttered darkly, giving him a dirty look. He had been bugging her from the beginning, but the way he was making her sixth sense go off like crazy was making her even more annoyed. He shut up just from the look she gave him and Lupin gave her an amused look while Black looked at Hermione, pondering the question.

"I don't know how I did it," he admitted after a long moment. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the dementors couldn't suck it out of me . . . but it kept me sane and knowing who I am . . . helped me to keep my powers . . . so when it all became . . . too much . . . I could transform in my cell . . . become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know. . . . They feel their way towards people by feeding off their emotions. . . . They could tell my feelings were less—less human, less complex when I was a dog . . . but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had n o hope of driving them away from me without a wand.

"But then I saw Peter in that picture . . . I realised he was at Hogwarts with Harry . . . perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again . . . ready to strike the moment he could be sure of allies . . . and ready to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say that he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honours. . . . So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was alive other than Aurora and she was dead a long time ago. . . ."

Gwyn saw the way that his face changed at the mention of her mother's death, saw the way that his eyes turned to anguish and pain at the mention of Aurora Toren-Swann's demise. And it was in that instant that she knew, she understood, that despite the time and distance . . . despite the fact that she married another and had his daughter . . . Sirius Black was still very much in love with Aurora.

"It was as though someone had lit a fire in my head, and the dementors couldn't destroy it. . . . It wasn't a happy feeling . . . it was an obsession . . . but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring me food, I slipped past them as a dog. . . . It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused. . . . I was thin, very thin . . . thin enough to slip through the bars. . . . I swam as a dog back to the mainland. . . . I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the both of you, from a distance. I'd promised James, Lily, and Aurora that I'd watch the two of you if anything happened to them. And I came to watch the Quidditch games, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry. . . ."

Gwyn looked to Harry, whose green eyes were focused on Black's, but his hand reached for hers, lacing their fingers together.

"Believe me," Black whispered. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

Harry just stared at Black for a long moment, unable to speak, and then he nodded.

"NO!" Pettigrew fell to his knees in anguish and began crawling to Sirius, brokenly, pleadingly. "Sirius—it's me . . . it's Peter . . . your friend . . . you wouldn't . . ."

Kicking out, Sirius struck him away. "There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them."

Pettigrew turned to Lupin, clearly hoping that this old friend would help him. "Remus! You don't believe this . . . wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy," Lupin said conversationally. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?"

"Forgive me, Remus."

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," Lupin assured him. He was rolling up his sleeves, as did Sirius. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing _you_ were the spy?"

"Of course," Sirius answered. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so," Lupin replied.

"You wouldn't . . . you won't . . ." Pettigrew seemed to realise that there would be no help from his friends and turned to look at the quartet, going first to the boy who had taken care of him. "Ron . . . haven't I been a good friend . . . a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you . . . you're on my side, aren't you?"

Ron looked at him in uttermost disgust. "I let you sleep in my _bed_!" he exclaimed, horrified.

"Kind boy . . . kind master . . ." Pettigrew was on all fours, crawling towards Ron, who was unable to walk properly due to his broken leg, a pleading, begging look on his face. "You won't let them do it. . . . I was your rat. . . . I was a good pet. . . ."

"If you make a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," Sirius informed him as Ron yanked himself away from Pettigrew, who turned to Hermione next.

"Sweet girl . . . clever girl . . . you—you won't let them. . . . Help me," he begged her, but Hermione just yanked her robes away from Pettigrew's clutches, backing away from him, leaving him no choice but to turn to Gwyn and Harry, standing next to each other in front of the door.

"Little Guinevere . . . you look so much like your mother. . . . And Harry, you look just like your father . . ." Pettigrew whimpered. "They would have understood. They wouldn't have wanted me killed. They would have shown me mercy. . . ."

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO EITHER OF THEM!" Sirius roared, sounding furious. "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY? HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM! AND YOU DARE SPEAK ABOUT AURORA, YOU PIECE OF FILTH!"

He was grabbed Pettigrew within two seconds and thrown him away from the two teenagers, the fury written in his face. Gwyn wasn't sure which he was more upset about, James or Aurora. His best friend or the love of his life.

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," he snarled at Pettigrew, who was trembling in front of him as Lupin walked towards them, calm and composed. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew lost all control then, breaking down into sobs. "Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord . . . you have no idea . . . he has weapons you can't imagine. . . . I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen. . . . He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me—"

"DON'T LIE!" Sirius screamed at him and Pettigrew flinched. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JESM DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He—he was taking over everywhere! What—what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" Sirius echoed, the fury still evident on his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" Pettigrew was whining now. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

"You should have realised, Peter," Lupin said quietly as he and Sirius raised their wands, prepared for the kill, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."

"NO!" Harry shouted, breaking free of Gwyn's hold on him and racing forward, putting himself between the wands. Gwyn screamed in terror, but Sirius and Lupin had lowered their wands the moment that they had been facing their best friend's son, though thoroughly flabbergasted. "You can't kill him, you can't."

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason why you have no parents," Sirius said, his voice much calmer now that he was speaking to his godson. "This cringing bit of filch would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know. We'll take him up to the castle," Harry insisted. "We'll hand him over to the dementors. . . . He can go to Azkaban . . . but don't kill him."

"Harry!" Pettigrew grabbed hold of Harry's knees, hugging them. "You—thank you—it's more than I deserve—thank you—"

"Get off me." Harry yanked free, pulling himself away. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because—I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers—just for you."

Sirius and Lupin were looking at each other at Harry's words and Sirius nodded slowly. "You're the only one who has the right to decide, Harry," he said. "But think . . . think about what he did . . ."

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry insisted. "If anyone deserves that place, he does. . . ."

"Very well," Lupin agreed. "Stand aside, Harry. I'm going to tie him up. That's all, I swear." Harry moved and Lupin bound and gagged him.

"But if you transform, Peter, we will kill you," Sirius assured him. "You agree, Harry?" Harry nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.

"Right," Lupin said. "First off, we need to—Gwyn?" he asked sharply as Gwyn suddenly felt a very sharp pain explode in the back of her mind and she gasped, falling to her knees, clutching her head.

She remembered Harry running at her, grabbing hold of her as images flooded through her mind. Images that would determine their entire future.


	20. A Free Man

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Twenty: A Free Man

Gwyn could do nothing but sit there, pain exploding in her head, feeling as though a bomb had gone off inside as images flooded through them. It was not the first time that she'd had visions before . . . it was just the first time that it had ever happened while she was awake. She was only vaguely aware of Harry gripping her, supporting her as she gasped for breath, struggling through the pain.

She saw herself, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Sirius, Lupin, Snape and Pettigrew all exit the Whomping Willow, starting to head up to the castle when the group was suddenly bathed in moonlight. At once, Lupin began to transform and turned into a werewolf. Gwyn wanted to scream, but she had no voice as Sirius fought off the werewolf as Pettigrew seized the opportunity to escape, transforming into a rat and disappearing into the trees, leaving Sirius to take the blame.

Gasping for breath, Gwyn raised her head sharply, looking straight into Harry's green eyes, frantic with worry. Hermione and Ron were over by the bed, their expressions in deep concern. Lupin was looking at her in concern while Sirius stood near his godson, his expression filled with understanding.

"She has the Sight already?" he asked, directing the question at Lupin, who nodded grimly.

"Since my first year," Gwyn whispered, gripping Harry's robes and burying her face into his chest. He didn't protest, just held her tighter, wrapping his arms around her. "This is just the first time that I've ever had visions while I was awake." She gave a small sniffle, the pain in her head already receding, but it still left a backlash.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked her anxiously, still holding onto her. She nodded miserably. "You don't look like it . . ."

"I'll be fine," she assured him, pulling away to get to her feet, but he just helped her stand. It was probably a good thing, since her legs were wobbly and unsteady as she stood. Gwyn swallowed slightly as Harry pulled her over to the bed, helping her to sit down. Lupin was keeping his wand on Pettigrew, who kept quiet, his eyes fearful as he looked at Gwyn.

"How is it possible?" Sirius was running his hand through his hair, looking thoroughly perplexed. "Even Aurora didn't have the Sight that young; she only started having the visions when she was sixteen." He was staring at Gwyn in amazement, then shook his head. "What did you see?"

Gwyn shifted uncomfortably at the attention that was directed towards her before looking at Lupin. "Professor . . . you didn't happen to take your potion tonight, did you?" she queried.

Lupin stilled, his expression turning grave as Sirius looked at him in worry. "No, I didn't," he admitted softly. "I was too busy making sure you four . . . what happened?"

Looking down at her feet, Gwyn whispered, "I saw us leave the Willow and then you transformed. And then—" Here, she turned to glare at Pettigrew. "You used the opportunity to escape." She couldn't rid herself of Pettigrew's expression when he had made his escape, gleeful and delighted.

Sirius's expression twitched and he muttered some words that caused Gwyn to wince. "Remus . . ."

"I know." The Defence teacher looked at him in understanding. "Sirius, take them and go. It's only a matter of time before the change happens."

"What are we going to do about Professor Snape?" Hermione wanted to know, looking at the still-unconscious form of Snape, lying motionless at their feet.

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," Lupin told her. "You were just a little—overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er—perhaps it would be best if you don't revive him until you're safely in the castle. Hermione, do you happen to know the _Mobilicorpus_ spell?" Hermione nodded eagerly. "That should be enough to take him back."

"And two of us should be chained to this," Sirius added, nodding to Pettigrew. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it," Gwyn offered.

"And me," Ron said darkly. Lupin managed to bandage Ron's leg so that it was in a splint. He was still limping, but he could at least walk without hurting himself.

The second that Gwyn and Ron were chained to Pettigrew, they moved out of the Shack while Lupin stayed behind to suffer through his transformation. Gwyn walked through the tunnel with her arm chained to Pettigrew, her face like stone.

Once everything was settled, she was going to have to have a talk with Sirius and find out some stuff. About his relationship with her mother and what had happened between them . . .

As she walked through the tunnel, a thought crossed her mind, but she immediately banished it. That wasn't possible. Sirius couldn't possibly be her father, could he? It wasn't possible, not even probable. After all, her parents _had_ been married when they'd had her and from what she knew about her mother, she wasn't likely to be the kind of wife who would sneak around with other men behind her husband's back.

Besides, there were some things about her that made her undoubtedly William Swann's child. Even though she and her father were barely on speaking terms right now, Gwyn couldn't deny that he was her father.

But Sirius could still answer some questions for her, questions that she still had about her mother.

Gwyn smiled slightly as she listened to Harry and Sirius's conversation behind her, about Harry leaving the Dursleys to live with Sirius. She couldn't be happier for him; after everything that had happened to him, he deserved some happiness.

Keeping her grip on her wand, Gwyn eased herself out of the hole, climbing out into the moonlit grounds. Thanking whatever higher power had given her the vision, Gwyn walked with Ron and Pettigrew, who was trying to drag his feet, heading directly for the front doors, hoping very much that Dumbledore wasn't too far, because she wasn't sure any other teacher would be willing to listen.

As though called by her thoughts, Dumbledore appeared the moment that they entered the entrance hall, his eyes flying over the group, moving from Sirius to Pettigrew and then back again.

And he smiled.

"Well, Sirius," he said after a long moment. "It seems that there are some things that need to be cleared up."

--

Gwyn sat outside of Dumbledore's office with her friends, staring down at her hands while she strained her ears, trying to listen to what was being said in the room next door, but it was of no use. The walls were stone and undoubtedly charmed to ward off eavesdropping. Brushing her hair out of her face, Gwyn glanced sideways at Harry, who was staring at the wall across from him.

For the first time in her life, Gwyn didn't know what to say to him in order to put him at ease. Sirius was up in Dumbledore's office with the headmaster, minister, and several Ministry officials, who without a doubt wanted to send for the dementors and suck out Sirius's soul.

The very thought of sending an innocent man to that fate made Gwyn's blood chill.

Ron had been sent off to the hospital wing to take care of his broken leg, but the most that the rest of them had were some scrapes and bruises, which didn't really need to be healed, so they were forced to sit outside of the office after Dumbledore listened to their story of what had happened in the Shrieking Shack and where Professor Lupin was.

Snape, naturally, was furious at what had happened and was still up there, desperately trying to get Sirius the Dementor's Kiss. Gwyn shivered slightly and curled up from where she was sitting.

"How long have they been up there?" Gwyn finally broke the silence, causing Harry and Hermione to jump.

"Over an hour," Hermione answered, checking her watch. "Don't worry, with Pettigrew, there's no evidence against him. They couldn't possibly send him back to Azkaban, let alone give him the Kiss." But her face was still very pale at the thought of it.

"We're talking about the same people who killed Buckbeak a few hours ago, Hermione," Gwyn pointed out. "I'm personally not in favour of their kind of justice. It doesn't seem much like justice to me."

"Gwyn . . ." Hermione gave her a look and indicated Harry, who was sitting next to the blonde witch. Gwyn looked and saw that his hands were gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Reaching over, she touched his hand and he jumped, looking around at her. "You all right?"

"Fine," he said quietly. He looked distracted for a minute. "You know when Sirius and I were talking earlier?" The girls nodded. "He was asking me to come and live with him."

"That's great," Hermione said enthusiastically.

"When all of this is over, I'll never have to go back to the Dursleys," Harry said breathlessly. "It'll just be me and him. We could get a place in the country. Some place you can see the sky. I think he'd like that after all those years in Azkaban."

Gwyn smiled at him. "I think you're right," she agreed. "Hermione's right, they can't kill him now they've got Pettigrew. I mean, the most that they could charge him with is being an illegal Animagus and you can't even go to Azkaban for that. Madeline told me. You just get a fine for it and you're forced to register yourself."

All of them looked around as the door to Dumbledore's office opened and Harry jumped up, followed by Gwyn and Hermione, who stood by his side as the Ministry officials dragged Pettigrew down the hall, heading towards the exit. The Minster was next, giving all of them a brief nod, looking gravely shaken as he followed the newly convicted Pettigrew and his captors out of the castle.

"Finally, poetic justice," Gwyn muttered. "Now, if only there was more of that in the world."

Harry and Hermione chuckled as the doors opened again and Dumbledore came out, followed by Sirius.

"Guess who's a free man?" Sirius said, grinning wildly. Just by the smile, he looked years younger and she could see the boy that he had once been, the one that her mother had written about in her diary . . . the one that she had fallen in love with.

With a wide grin, Harry hugged his godfather and Gwyn and Hermione laughed in delight as they hugged each other before hugging Harry and Sirius next.

"Congratulations," Gwyn whispered in Sirius's ear. "Mum would be proud of you."

"And she'd be proud of the woman that you're becoming, little Guinevere," Sirius whispered back, giving her a sad smile as he straightened.

Gwyn couldn't help but smile; there was an odd sense of peace settling down upon them, as though all were right with the world.

If only they could have known that sometimes fate can't be fought. And even though they had freed an innocent man, the guilty one would still never see the inside of Azkaban prison.

When Gwyn woke up the next morning, she found the newspapers plastered with the same story. While Sirius Black was found innocent of the crimes that he had allegedly committed and Peter Pettigrew was alive and guilty of murder, treachery, and loyalty to the Dark Lord, Pettigrew had also escaped while in the Ministry's custody. He had killed three of the officials that were holding him and managed to sneak through the Ministry unnoticed. His whereabouts were currently unknown.

All of them were shocked and furious when they saw the news. And Gwyn knew that it would only be a matter of time before the real reason that Pettigrew had escaped would become known, when Voldemort made his reappearance and the wizarding world would, once again, be at war.

AN: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I know I haven't updated for over a month and I have no excuse for it! I am just so sorry, guys. But I promise, I am going to try and be better with this story! And don't worry, this isn't the end of Prisoner of Azkaban. I've still got a couple more chapters before it's finished.

But please, please review, because I really love getting those. It makes me very happy.

Lady Dawson


	21. Aurora and Sirius's Past

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Twenty-one: Aurora and Sirius's Past

The day was bittersweet for Gwyn as she rose from her dormitory and began to dress in her robes. They had freed an innocent man from a dark fate, but the true murderer had escaped and three innocent lives had been taken because of it. And Buckbeak had been killed. Gwyn felt horrible for Hagrid, felt as though it were somehow her fault that he hadn't survived, but she knew that there was nothing that they could've done differently and saved everyone from their fates.

It was still early when Gwyn headed to Professor Vector's classroom to retake her Arthimancy exam. She was pretty sure that she could've waited another day, but she honestly just wanted to get it over with. The more time she waited, she was sure that something else was going to happen.

Sirius had gone to the Ministry and requested custody of Harry, which they were all too willing to agree to, since he had been imprisoned for no reason for twelve years. Gwyn was thrilled for her best friend, glad that he was now going to a home where he would be safe and loved and wanted.

Madeline had wrote her a letter, practically in all capitalisation, scolding her for being so reckless and going out after hours and being in the company of a murderer. But after about a page and a half of yelling, she finally calmed down and told her that she was proud of her and she was glad that Sirius was actually innocent.

Until he was able to secure a place of his own, Sirius was staying on the grounds at Dumbledore's request. Harry and Sirius were going to look for a house as soon as school was out, but until then, he could easily been seen in the castle with Lupin.

Unfortunately, Professor Lupin had fulfilled the requirement of Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers and only lasted one year. After Sirius had been declared innocent, Snape, in his outrage, revealed to his students about Lupin being a werewolf and Lupin had resigned.

Gwyn had been very upset to hear this particular piece of information, along with most of the school, but she knew it would do no good. She was all too aware of how most of wizarding society treated werewolves. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair, but that was what it was. But if there was one thing that she was glad of, it was that he had taught her to open her eyes and to look into her heart to see what it was that she had wanted.

Hermione knew the truth about her greatest fear and when Gwyn had told her, she only smiled knowingly. "I already knew," she told her softly. "I've seen the way you two look at each other. You should tell him how you feel, Gwyn."

"How can I tell him that?" Gwyn asked, her shoulders sagging. "I don't want to ruin my friendship with him."

"You never know what's going to happen until you take a risk," Hermione said reasonably.

"Take a leap of faith," Gwyn whispered. "Maybe . . . but what if I'm wrong? What if I lose him as my friend and everything turns out . . ." She couldn't complete her sentence.

Her best friend just looked at her, giving her a knowing smile. "Well, all I know for sure is that if you do absolutely nothing, then one day, you're going to wake up and wonder what could've happened if you had just taken a chance," she said firmly. "So maybe instead, you can have something more."

Gwyn sighed, pulling her thoughts away from her thoughts on Harry as she knocked on Sirius's doors. "It's open!" Sirius called and she pushed the door open and walked into the chambers, finding him pouring over some flyers for houses that were for sale. "Hey, Gwyn. Finished your Arthimancy exam?"

"Yeah, I'm lucky that Professor Vector was willing to let me take it over, seeing as I was passed out in the hospital wing at the time," Gwyn said as he waved her in. She took a seat across from him.

"Remus mentioned that," Sirius mused and she gave him a curious look.

"Did he mention why I was passed out?"

"What do you think?" Sirius gave her a lopsided, cocky grin and she groaned, putting her face into her hands.

"You and Professor Lupin gossip more than old women," she complained, giving him a look as she folded her arms on the table. Sirius gave a bark-like laugh and she couldn't help but smile. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to find a house, which isn't a problem with the compensation the Ministry gave me for shoving me in Azkaban all those years," Sirius said, shaking his head. "The problem is finding one that is nowhere near any of my relatives. Problem is, I've got them almost everywhere. Too many Blacks out there."

"I'd offer to help, but I have no idea where any of relatives live, so I don't think I'd be of any help," Gwyn said.

"Yeah, well, I also think that you came over here to listen to my problems," Sirius pointed out as he looked over at her. "What's going on?"

Gwyn sighed, looking down at her hands. "I wanted to ask you about my mother," she confessed. "What she was like when she was my age, what she did after school before she met my dad, about your guys' relationship . . ." she trailed off, wonder if she should ask him this, but Sirius didn't look angry, just quiet for a long moment.

Finally, he stood up and walked over to the closet, retrieving a small photograph of Aurora and a younger Sirius standing outside Hogwarts. They couldn't have been any more than sixteen.

"I met Aurora on our very first day at Hogwarts," Sirius said softly. "She and Lily had become best friends instantly, much like me and James. Aurora was . . . bright and compassionate and . . . and had none of the darkness that her family had. We were two of a kind, both rebelling against our parents and both being the forgotten child, while our brothers were praised and doted upon. But for the longest time, we ignored each other, taunted each other, and picked on each other. Lily used to tease Aurora that the two of us were going to end up married one day . . . and your mother would just laugh at her, but even at the age of eleven, I wanted it to be true. But it wasn't until our fifth year that I finally got the courage to ask her out."

"At the Christmas ball," Gwyn said, remembering that particular entry, the one that the man before he had written in just to annoy her mother.

Sirius blinked and stared at her in amazement. "How'd you know about that?" he demanded.

"Mum's diary," she admitted. He chuckled.

"I forgot about that. She used to get so mad at me when I would write in that," he laughed. She blinked. "What, did you think that that was the only entry that I wrote in?" Gwyn shook her head in disbelief; if Harry or Ron wrote in her diary, she would punch them in the nose.

"You're lucky she didn't kill you."

"Yeah, she probably would've, if I wasn't so adorable," Sirius said, grinning. His smile slowly faded. "The moment that she stepped down from her dormitory in that blue gown, I fell in love with her. She was so beautiful in it; I thought I was looking at an angel. That night was one of the happiest of my life, but unfortunately, our happiness wasn't to last."

Gwyn waited, but Sirius didn't continue, just stared at the photograph that he had of her mother. After a long moment, Gwyn finally cleared her throat. "What happened?"

Sirius jumped, as though he had forgotten that she was there, and looked down, his expression grim. "Well . . . we graduated and joined up with the Order of the Phoenix, a resistance against Voldemort, but things just happen, Gwyn. We drifted apart and finally decided that things would be better off if we just stayed friends."

Something about the way that he said that made Gwyn think that he wasn't telling her everything and she frowned. "What do you mean? What kind of things?" she wanted to know.

"Another time, little owl," Sirius said with a grim smile at her. "That's a story for when you're much, much older."

Heaving a sigh, Gwyn realised that he wasn't going to tell her anything else and folded her arms across her chest, still questioning her parentage.

"Okay, but . . . let me just ask you one thing," Gwyn said and Sirius nodded, curious. "You're _not_ my father, right? I mean, William really is my biological father, isn't he?" That caused Sirius to laugh and Gwyn actually grinned, despite the seriousness of the situation.

It took several moments for Sirius to stop laughing and when he did, there were tears of mirth in his eyes. "No, no, I'm not your dad, Gwyn," he assured her. "Though I can see where you might have come to that conclusion. No, William is most definitely your father, though I'm not sure if that might ease your mind or not, from what Remus told me about him."

"Yeah," Gwyn sighed as she looked away. "Did . . . did you and Mum . . . did you ever get married?"

"We came close to it," Sirius said softly. "But like I said, things happened and . . ." He took a deep breath. "And besides, if we hadn't broken things off, Aurora never would've met your dad and you never would've been born." Gwyn considered this and nodded.

"But you still love her."

"I've never stopped. She's the only girl that I'd ever really been serious with," he admitted. "And I'll never stop loving her. But she's gone now, Gwyn. And dwelling on the past . . . sometimes, it only makes certain that you have no future."

Nodding slowly, Gwyn slowly stood up and made to exit the room when Sirius stopped her. "Gwyn?"

She turned. "Yeah?"

"You have so much of your mother in you," he said firmly. "And the ones that we love never truly leave us. You can always find them." He raised his hand and placed it over his heart. "In here."

Gwyn nodded slowly. "Thanks, Sirius."

"And thank _you_," Sirius added. "If it weren't for you, then I might not be a free man."

"Pettigrew still got away," Gwyn said, glancing towards the window. Somewhere out there, the man who had betrayed Lily and James Potter was at large. "And I've got the feeling that his escape only draws closer the dark days that are soon to come."

"Peter will pay for his crimes," Sirius said, the promise evident in his eyes. "He'll be brought to justice."

"But there's nowhere for him to hide, now," Gwyn pointed out. "He can't go to a wizarding family, not now that the whole wizarding world knows that he's an Animagus. He has no other choice but to go to Voldemort."

Sirius had no reply to this, because he knew that she was absolutely right.

--

As Gwyn rounded the corner, heading towards Gryffindor Tower to pack up the last of her things before they left on the train the next day, Gwyn smiled as she saw Tristan heading towards the library.

"Tristan!" she called, running to catch up with him. He grinned as he saw her. "Long time, no see."

"Well, from what I hear, you've been pretty busy," he pointed out. "Pretty wild couple of days, huh?"

"Yeah, tell me about it," Gwyn said, smiling up at him. "I'm starting to think we're never going to have a quiet year around here."

"Well, who cares about normal? The quiet life is too dull anyway," Tristan pointed out. Gwyn grinned as she fell into step next to the Slytherin as they walked through the castle. "Besides, I'd rather be here then at that orphanage. Dull as rocks there."

"Well, London's not that far away from Rosemary Grove," Gwyn said, looking up at him. "You could always come and visit me there. Madeline won't mind; she says that she leaves me alone too much anyway during the summer."

Tristan grinned. "Thanks, I might take you up on that." They exited the castle and stepped onto the grounds. "Gonna be a long summer. I almost annoyed that we're not at one of those year-round schools. I'd rather stay here."

"I know what you mean," Gwyn agreed as they walked towards the lake. "This place is home."

"Yeah, well, personally, I think sometimes home is a person," Tristan said thoughtfully. "And your home is, I'm thinking, not the castle, but a certain dark haired wizard that you hang around with." Gwyn gawked at him, blushing scarlet.

"Shut up!" she hissed, casting a quick glance around to see if anyone had heard him, but there was no one close. "Jeez!"

"I'm just saying . . ."

"Jerk," she grumbled, giving him a playful shove, still red. "What makes you say something like that?"

"Well, it's kind of obvious," Tristan pointed out. "I mean, the way that you look at him . . ."

"Maybe, to everybody but him," Gwyn said quietly.

"So make it obvious to him," Tristan suggested. Gwyn glanced at him sharply, then looked away, her eyes moving up to Gryffindor Tower.

_Maybe._


	22. First Kiss

**Gwyn Swann and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter Twenty-two: First Kiss

The last weeks of school were finally over and summer had finally settled down upon them. Gwyn had her bags packed and Tabby was put into his cage as they were once again heading towards the train station to take them back to their homes, but there was a feeling of turmoil in the air. While they had saved an innocent man, the guilty had walked free and was now on his way undoubtedly to his master, who had been lying alone and friendless for almost thirteen years.

Now, he had one of his servants back. But as Dumbledore had told Harry, Pettigrew was in Harry's debt for saving his life. And Gwyn doubted very much that he would be happy about having a servant who was in Harry Potter's debt.

Gwyn knew, as she had known since the end of last year, that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort returned. Maybe she had known it all along. But with Pettigrew gone, their days were numbered before they descended back into the dark days which they had been born into. And instead of their parents fighting, it would be Gwyn and her friends would be in the war now.

Placing the last of her belongings into her trunk, Gwyn closed the lid, snapping it shut as she looked around the empty dormitory.

"Well, Tabby, this is it," she said with a small sigh, looking down at her cat through his cage. "We're not gonna see this place for a couple of months. Soon, we'll be back at Madeline's."

She loved her guardian; she did, but it was not home. Hogwarts was home. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were her family and they had built their home here. And while it was nice to have somewhere to go during the summer holidays, it was not the same as being here in the castle.

Climbing down the staircase with her things, Gwyn joined her friends as they headed with the rest of the school to the train station to meet the Hogwarts Express to take the students back to the Muggle world.

Harry, for the first time since she had known him, actually looked happy to be going away from the castle. But he had good reason. Instead of going to those "relatives" of his, he would be going to someone who actually cared about him. His godfather and his parents' best friend.

Sirius had managed to find a nice house in the country, with its own Quidditch pad. Gwyn had no doubt that Harry would waste no time in trying it out when he got there. But mostly, she was just happy for her friend. It was about time that he had some happiness in his life.

Stepping up onto the train, Gwyn followed Harry into one of the compartments, sliding her trunk into the holders above their heads and letting Tabby out of his cage, allowing him to climb up into her lap. Petting him, Gwyn watched as the train began growing fuller and fuller until finally taking off.

She gave a small wave to Hagrid, who was still grief-stricken after Buckbeak's death. Gwyn wished that she could give some comfort to him, but there really was no comfort for things like this. There were no answers for things like this, no reasons to be given.

"So are you ever going to tell us how exactly you were getting to all of your classes this year?" Ron said for the thousandth time.

Gwyn laughed, glad to have someone pull her out of her thoughts as Hermione gave a small smile. "I was turning back time," she answered. Everyone stared at her as though she had lost her mind and Gwyn exchanged a look with Harry. "Professor McGonagall gave me a Time-Turner at the start of term. She made me swear not to tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. She had to tell them that I was a model student, and that I'd never, ever use it for anything but my studies. . . . I've been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that's how I was doing several lessons at once, see?"

Gwyn was gawking at her friend by the time that she had finished and she shook her head, closing it. "You are completely insane, Hermione Jean Granger, you know that?" she demanded. "No wonder you've been so exhausted the whole year. When you get back home, you need to get to bed and one of us will wake you come September." The boys laughed and Hermione even grinned, but shook her head.

"Don't worry, next year isn't going to be like this one at all," she assured Gwyn. "I dropped Muggle studies this morning."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" Ron pointed out.

"I know," Hermione said, heaving a sigh. "But I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again."

Ron stared at her, then shook his head, making a face at her. "I can't believe that you didn't tell any of us about it," he complained. "We're supposed to be your friends."

"I promised I wouldn't tell anyone," Hermione said, giving him a weary look. Gwyn and Harry exchanged a look.

"You know," Gwyn said with a teasing grin, "one of these days, you two are going to end up killing each other or getting married."

Ron actually sat up so fast that he hit his head on the ceiling, which sent him back into his seat. Hermione actually turned an interesting shade of red. Harry started laughing at their expressions and Gwyn grinned wildly, her blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

"That certainly got a rise out of them," she said before closing her eyes. "Let's see . . . I'm seeing . . . I'm seeing a beautiful house with a Quidditch pad in the back and a little boy and girl wrestling around—"

"Stop that!" Ron yelled. "I told you two that seers were too annoying to put up with," he said to Harry and Hermione. "Told you that first year."

Gwyn retaliated by swatting Ron, still smiling. "Who says that I was joking?" she said in a deadly serious voice. Even Hermione was having trouble holding her laughter in now.

Glaring at her, Ron quickly changed the subject, looking at Harry expectantly. "Hey, listen, it's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? We could all go see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work!"

Harry looked excited about this fact. "Yeah, I bet Sirius would enjoy that," he agreed, looking over at Gwyn. "What do you think, you in?"

"Like I would pass that up, how many times are we going to have a chance to see the World Cup?" Gwyn asked. "Hermione?"

"Sounds exciting," she agreed. Gwyn grinned, reaching up and pulling Ron's Exploding Snap cards out of his trunk easily.

"Hey!"

"Oh, come on, who wants to play?" she asked, holding up the cards.

They were several games in before they abandoned the game to buy some food from the witch with the tea cart. Gwyn bit into a Chocolate Frog, letting Ron claim the cards as she ate the Frogs quietly, wondering not for the first time where Pettigrew was at and if the Ministry would catch up with him before he managed to get to Voldemort.

It was all too soon when the train finally reached Platform 9 ¾, pulling to a stop at the magical platform. With her trunks and Tabby's cage in toe, Gwyn walked through the barrier with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, spotting Madeline in the train station at once, talking with Sirius, who had greatly improved since he had earned his discharge. His hair was much shorter than it had been and his face was fuller, less gaunt than it had been when she had first set eyes on him. If she hadn't known that it was him, then Gwyn doubted that she would've recognised Sirius.

"I thought you said that this guy was a dangerous menace to everyone around him?" Gwyn joked to her guardian, who only gave her charge a withering look as Sirius grinned.

"Well, it only goes to show that sometimes, we don't know people as well as we thought," Madeline admitted. She gave Sirius a look as the Animagus chuckled. "I don't think I need to ask how your school year was."

"Same as always," Gwyn said with a shrug. "You know, adventure, excitement, danger lurking around every corner . . . hey, maybe next year, I can go up against a dragon," she suggested, causing Madeline to close her eyes in horror and amazement.

"I swear, sometimes you frighten me, child," she sighed. "Why is it that you always find yourself in the middle of danger? You're going to make me die of nerves, Guinevere," she scolded. Gwyn only grinned up at her guardian before looking back over at her friends. "Go on, go say goodbye to them. And when we get home, I'm going to have a long talk with you about what staying out of danger means," she added.

"What's life without a little risk?" Gwyn countered as she walked back to her friends. "Well, this is it."

"Another year gone by," Ron agreed. "What do you think they'll get us next year for a Defence teacher? I'm thinking maybe a vampire, since we've already done the werewolf bit."

"Maybe an Auror," Gwyn suggested. "Dark wizard catcher," she added to Harry's blank look.

"That'd be cool," Ron agreed. "But on the bright side, at least you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year," he added to Harry, whose grin had gotten brighter at that statement.

"You mean legally," Hermione said reprimandingly. "I'd better go. Mum and Dad want to get home before the evening rush." She hugged each of them in turn. "I'll see you over the summer, hopefully."

"World Cup, remember?" Gwyn pointed out. "We're definitely going to see each other over the summer."

Hermione smiled broadly as she walked towards her parents, waving goodbye to them as Mrs. Weasley called for Ron.

"See you two," Ron said, giving Harry a manly hug and receiving a hug from Gwyn before joining the rest of his family and leaving Harry and Gwyn standing in the station.

"Well, I guess . . . this is goodbye, then," Harry said, looking down at her. She gave him a small smile, shaking her head.

"No," she replied. "Not goodbye. It's never goodbye. It's only just . . . I'll see you soon." Harry smiled at her as she turned to head back to Madeline when both Tristan and Hermione's voice echoed in her head.

_"If you do absolutely nothing, then one day, you're going to wake up and wonder what could've happened if you had just taken a chance." _

_"Make it obvious to him." _

Gwyn made up her mind in mid-step and turned back around to face Harry once again, who looked completely thrown. For better or for worse, it was time to make her own future that didn't have anything to do with her visions.

She grasped his shirt, pulling him towards him and kissed him, causing several onlookers to hoot and wolf-whistle.

It was a soft, chaste, gentle kiss that nevertheless caused him to kiss her back. But more importantly, it was her first kiss and it was perfect. Gwyn felt her heart race and when she finally pulled away, she wasn't sure if she was able going to get it beating to its normal pace again.

Harry was staring at her in complete astonishment, but she couldn't see any displeasure in his eyes.

She grinned up at him, deciding that now was the best time to leave. "See you over the summer, Harry," she said, turning around and walking back to Madeline, grabbing her trunk from where it stood and walked towards where she knew the car was parked, Madeline right behind her, the past slowly catching up with them.

But to Gwyn, the future never looked brighter.

AN: Okay, Prisoner of Azkaban is finally finished and I've already started on Goblet of Fire. So, let's make a deal, okay? If you guys give me four or five reviews, then I will post the first chapter of Year 4 tonight. What do you say? Do we have a deal or not?

Lady Dawson


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